The Dragon's Consort
by FanGirl0207
Summary: Lance, King of Blackthorn and the current Dragonlord, was forced to find another Consort when his power began to noticably weakened. Steven, brother of a minor lord in the far northern province, was skeptical about his chances with the King. But when dragons were involved, who can say what was certain? Neochampionshipping. Lance x Steven. Yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

**Dragon's Consort**

 **A/N: Heya guys, it's me, FanGirl0207 with another neochampionshipping fic! It's been a long time since I uploaded for this pairing, and so I decided to just get on with it and upload the first chapter. Expect OOC-ness please! Thank you for your attention, I hope you enjoy!  
**

* * *

 **Lance**

"The reports keep coming in, Your Majesty," Councilor Samuel Oak said with grimness in his voice. "Just this morning, the Commander of the Wyvern Squad came to me. He told me that some of the Wyverns on the field are acting quiet aggressively. They hissed and snapped at their riders. And this afternoon, another report came, saying that several of our best riders were dismounted during patrol."

The King said nothing as he rested his cheek on his right hand and gazed out of the window. Outside, the sun was setting over Blackthorn, the capital city of Johto Kingdom. The silhouette of wyverns and dragons were dark against the orange sky. Each of them differed in size, but their dances were all graceful. Long serpentine body coiled, its tail lashing out, mighty like a whip, a pair of large wings spread out over the sky, as beautiful as a blooming flower.

"Your Majesty, I'm afraid," Councilor Oak continued. "That if this keeps up any longer, you will completely lose control of the wyverns and dragons. I may not know much about the power that lies within you, but I understand that your power varies according to your mental state."

Still Lance did not say anything.

"It is not easy to be a king, a Dragonlord, and a father all at the same time… You try to bear the burden all by yourself, but you are still a human, despite the power in your blood." The Councilor paused, before he continued, "You need to find yourself a Consort."

A long silence ensued. Outside, the sky was getting darker and darker. The silhouette one by one vanished into the distance. Councilor Samuel Oak made no sign of moving.

Finally, the King let out a tired sigh, "The Councilors really have nothing better to do than to pester me, do they?"

"Your Majesty, the Councilors are only concerned. The reports keep on coming in one after another, you are losing control already. The lives of innocent people are in question here. I suppose that we can crown your first-born son, but-"

"Keep my son away from this," the King said, raising his voice a little. He rose from his seat by the window and gazed at the Councilor. "Keith is only five. He's too young to be a king, let alone a Dragonlord."

"Then I'm afraid you have no other choice. You need to choose a Consort."

Lance closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. Everything that Councilor Samuel Oak had said was true. He was losing control. The lives of innocent people were in danger. He needed to choose another Consort. He had tried to deny the truth for long enough. But the stubborn truth finally surfaced. He was not strong enough to handle everything; he needed someone to share the burden, someone to keep him sane. For the umpteenth time since he became a king, he cursed the blood that ran through his veins.

Lance gave the Councilor his back as he gazed out of the window again, "What does the Council propose?"

"The Court, Your Majesty."

The King didn't manage to hold back a sigh, "Of course… The Court." The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

"Many eligible young lords and ladies will be there, Your Majesty. I'm sure you will be able to find a Consort of your liking. The fairest, the most handsome, all will gather here in this very city just for you. They will not disappoint."

Lance fell silent once again as he imagined the chaos he needed to face once he agreed to this. What he imagined was so repulsive that he almost opened his mouth to object the proposal. But then he remembered his first-born son, his other children, and all the innocent people in the five United Realms. With a heavy heart, he finally said, "I will choose a Consort."

The Councilor smiled, "Excellent."

* * *

 **Steven**

Even after Steven heard it twice, he still couldn't help but stare at his brother with a dumbfounded look on his face. He gazed at his brother's wife, who was smiling at him encouragingly, and then at the young messenger who just crossed the roughest terrains only to deliver an invitation. He then turned to look at his brother again, "I'm not sure-"

His brother let out a sigh, "Let me convey this to you in the simplest words possible," he looked at him with gleaming sky-blue eyes which they both inherited from their mother. "The King is looking for a Consort. All eligible bachelor and bachelorettes are invited to attend this year's court. This messenger brought us our invitation," he waved his hand at the man standing next to him. "We are expected to send someone to Court. I am married. And so is your sister. That leaves only you. And so you're going."

It did sound simpler, but he left some questions unanswered. He stared at his brother for another moment, before he finally opened his mouth, "You're really sending me away to Johto?"

"The King is a thoughtful man, dear brother. He sends us an invitation even though we are just a minor family who inhabit the United Realm's most isolated province," he rolled up the invitation which he had been holding and offered it to Steven. "We should not repay that thoughtfulness with insolence. Go, you have my blessings."

Steven took the invitation from his hand. He really didn't know how to feel. A part of him was excited to know that he had been given a chance to visit the capital city of Johto, but another part of him felt utterly confused. If their father was still alive, Steven was certain he wouldn't agree to it.

His brother noticed the confused look on his face, and said, "Yes, I know what you're thinking, dear brother. Why send a rebellious, stubborn, shameless young lord to court? That's obviously far worse an insult than sending back an apology to the King." He raised his hand to stop the witty remark which he knew would come. "But… You are twenty now. It is time for you to learn about courts and marriages."

Steven scanned through the invitation, "What's there to learn? Courts are sophisticated brothels and marriages are business deals. This whole thing is nothing more than a bed-slave auction."

His brother frowned, and his wife who sat next to him smiled in amusement. "The King is going to choose a Consort," she pointed out. "I think the court this year is going to be very interesting."

"Yes, treacheries, lies and backstabbing," Steven said. "A murder or two, perhaps."

"If you're lucky, then maybe you'll have an audience with the king," she replied. "And if you leave a certain sort of impression," she smiled suggestively, "Who knows?"

"A very appealing idea, but that's very unlikely," Steven shook his head. "There's nothing a King can gain from marrying the brother of a minor lord. And besides, the King's first Consort is a woman, does that not say something about his preference?" He rolled up the invitation and looked at his brother, "But still, I'll go. There are things I want to do in Blackthorn. Thank you for giving entrusting me with this chance, brother. I will try my best to behave," he gave his brother one of his sweetest smiles.

"You better do," despite his words, he knew that behaving was the last thing Steven would do. He was starting to regret his decision.

* * *

The journey southward was long and perilous. Since the courting season was scheduled to start in another week, speed was in essence. The palace would have offered a wyvern to carry him to Blackthorn, but the recent instability in the King's mental state had rendered wyvern-riding dangerous, and so he was forced to go there by the land route. He wouldn't mind if he was allowed to go on a horse's back, but unfortunately, the palace had so graciously provided him with a carriage. And so, for the next seven days, he was forced to sit and waited as the scenery outside his window changed at a torturously slow pace.

Southward, the snow grew rarer and rarer, until all of them completely disappeared and the weather became noticeably warmer. The carriage passed through cities and towns, stopped by roadside inns, until at last, it approached Blackthorn city. The magnificent city of white marble came into sight on the morning of the sixth day since he left Rustboro. Amidst all those dome-shaped structures, stood one which was tallest and largest of them all; the royal palace. Steven had travelled with his father to many places when he was young, and he had travelled to even more places by himself when he got older. He had seen mansions, forts, castles and palaces, but none of them were as big as the one at the heart of Blackthorn. Palace of the Dragons, they called it, and it was a fitting name, for several of those long, serpentine creatures were soaring leisurely over it even as Steven approached.

"They came before dawn and left after dusk," the old driver of his carriage told him. "Those things were drawn to the Dragonlord. Nobody knows why. The dragons don't come around as often as the wyverns though. I guess it's for the best. One time a dragon so big came and flew just like that over the palace. The whole Kingdom didn't get to see the sun for three days!"

The carriage rolled on for the whole day, and it was only late into the night that they finally reached the palace. A wide, deep canal encircled the palace like a ring, and there was a wide stone bridge that served as the only path which led into the palace. After the bridge was crossed, the front yard of the palace stretched out far and wide before him, decorated with statues of dragons and the enviably colorful flowers common in the south. The straight path lighted up by strange floating orbs occasionally split up, leading to places Steven can only imagine, but the carriage kept a steady pace straight on, and soon, they arrived at the main entrance.

Steven didn't wait for the driver to open the door for him. As soon as the carriage halted, he flung the door open and stepped outside.

"Finally," he murmured as he looked around. Even though it was dark, Steven didn't feel the least bit tired. On the other hand, he was rather excited; he definitely couldn't wait to start exploring the palace.

"Good evening, my lord." A sound emerged from the main door. Steven turned to look and saw a finely-dressed old man standing at the doorway. He possessed a straight back and a stern face despite his graying hair. "You are Lord Steven of Rustboro, I assume?"

"Yes, I am," Steven replied as he walked up the steps.

"My name is Robert, and I am the steward of the West wing. The west wing is where the lords and ladies who came for the Court are settled in, and it is where I am taking you to now. Please do not concern yourself with your belongings. I will make sure they reach your room safely." He said those words with such a flat tone that Steven concluded that he must have had repeated those words a thousand times. The steward crooked his hand and offered it to Steven, "Shall we, my lord?"

Steven stared for a moment, before he realized that he was expected to slip his arm around the steward's. "Of course."

The interior of the palace was truly a magnificent sight to behold. The ceiling was so high that Steven could barely see the top. The floor was so polished that he could see his own reflection. The lights were so bright that he was struck with a sense of being in a very magical place. The steward led him through stairs and hallways and even more stairs than Steven could imagine. Finally, they came to a stop in front of a room with a rectangular silver plate stuck on it. Written on that place was his name, _Lord Steven of Rustboro._

The room behind that door was lavishly furnished, even in the eyes of a lord. The floor was covered in red carpet, and the bed was mounted with pillows. On one corner there was a dressing table and not far from it, a huge wardrobe. A sofa was placed by the window and on it were more pillows that Steven would ever need. A personal bath was behind another door in that room, huge and clean. Steven knelt down to feel the water, and was surprised to find it warm. In the short time it took him to explore his room, the servants brought up his belongings and settled it down by the door. Steven checked through them once, before he turned to the steward and said, "Thank you. That is all."

He respectfully bowed, "Then, I will take my leave. Please rest easy for the night. Tomorrow morning, one of the palace's valets will come to see you. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask. Have a good night, my lord."

"And a good night to you too," Steven smiled at him as he closed the door. He waited for several moments, before he opened the door again and looked around the hall. The steward was gone and no one else was around. Quickly, Steven fastened his cloak around himself, and sneaked out of his room.

* * *

 **Lance**

The full moon was out that night.

Lance had settled down in the quietest corner of the palace's garden with his only trusted friend, gazing up at the sky and remembering the old days when he was not a king. Things were much easier back then. Clair was still alive, she was the one meant to be Queen and Dragonlord, and he had all the freedom of a second-born. He still remembered the places he flew over with his wyvern, and the dragons he met. Everything changed when Clair passed away. He was whisked back into the palace, told that he was going to be the next king and Dragonlord, and kept under strict surveillance by the Councilors. His freedom was stripped away from him before he even knew it.

"We can take off now, you know…" he murmured to his friend as he reached out towards the sky. "Fly out of this place, for an hour or two." He would like to do that, more than anything else. But he was afraid that once he flew out of this place, he would never bother to come back. Slowly, he pulled back his hand, and quickly sat up. "It's late, I should go."

Beside him, Darkstar let out a low growl of dismay. It raised its head and gently nipped at the end of Lance's cloak.

"No," Lance sternly said. "Darkstar, let-"

A sudden rustle alerted them both. Lance and Darkstar both looked around, and soon, their gazes landed on a young man, who was standing amidst the blooming flowers not far from them. His gaze was fixed at the bright moon above, and his brilliant blue eyes sparkled with wonder and excitement. His hair was as silver as the moonlight and his skin as fair as snow. For southerners like Lance, his pale beauty was simply exotic.

Lance was tempted to say something to gain his attention, but at that moment, the only thing that was in his mind was how handsome and beautiful that young man was.

As if sensing their gazes, the young man tore his gaze from the moon above and turned to look at them. The surprise in his eyes was genuine, but also brief. "Good evening," he said to Lance with a handsome smile, but then he noticed Darkstar was there, and his eyes quickly widened with amazement again. "Is that… A wyvern?"

It took Lance a moment to realize that Darkstar was still next to him. He glanced at the wyvern, who was eying the young man with neutral eyes. "Yes, Darkstar, I call him." Lance turned to look at the young man again, "Who are you? And what are you doing out here so late?"

The young man immediately replied, "Steven of Rustboro, I came here after my family received an invitation to attend this year's court. I arrived a few hours ago and decided for a small walk before bed."

"It's a bit too late for a walk, isn't it?" Lance asked.

Steven merely shrugged, "I like exploring places, and besides," he turned to look at Darkstar again, "I've always wanted to see a wyvern up close." Hesitantly, he looked at Lance, "Are you… a royal wyvern rider?"

Only then did Lance realize that Steven didn't know that he was the King. He glanced down, and found out that he didn't bother dressing up properly as a king when he left his room. For a moment, he was tempted to tell him the truth, but for some reason, the lie prevailed, "You can say that." That wasn't entirely a le. He was a royal Wyvern Rider before Clair's death. Back then, he had dreamt of attaining the title Lord Commander of Royal Wyvern Rider.

"M-May I touch it?" Steven asked, his voice betraying his excitement.

Frankly, he wasn't the first outsider who came to Blackthorn curious about wyverns and dragons. Lance nodded, "Darkstar is tame, and I do not think he dislikes you." He glanced at his wyvern again, just to make sure. "Just be careful."

Steven nodded, before he approached them as calmly as he could. His gaze was too fixed on Darkstar to notice that Lance was staring at him a bit too intently. Up close, Lance could see his features better, and what he originally thought was not proven false. This young man was indeed handsome and beautiful. His skin looked smoother than anything Lance had ever seen, and his lips were as tempting as the sweetest apple. A cloak was fastened around his shoulder, but his neck was exposed, and it was as pale as it was breath-taking.

"It feels warm," Steven murmured as he placed his hand on Darkstar's snout, jarring Lance from his trance.

"It's…" Lance scrambled to regain his composure, "It's to be expected, Darkstar is a fire-wyvern after all." He scolded himself mentally for looking at Steven in such a lustful manner. It was true that he hadn't sated himself in that way ever since his wife died two years ago, but it was still no excuse to look upon a young lord that way. "Lord Steven, you may not be aware of this, but the lords and ladies appearing for the court are not allowed to leave the West Wing without an escort, especially not in the middle of the night."

"Escort?" For the first time, Steven looked at Lance with his brilliant blue eyes; eyes that reminded Lance of the open wide sky. "Why would I need an escort inside a palace of the strongest kingdom in the five United Realms?"

"You cannot be too sure when it comes to safety," Lance replied. "I will do you a favor and forget about seeing you here, but now, you need to go back to the West Wing. Come, let me escort you." He offered Steven his arm, but the young lord only looked at him for a moment, before he shook his head.

"You are a wyvern rider, correct?" Steven asked. "Then, will you take me out on a ride?"

There was innocence and pleading in his eyes as well as in his voice. He was acting so adorably that any other man would have relented. Next to him, Darkstar was begging along with Steven with its eyes as well, but Lance wasn't going to change his mind. He didn't want to fly. "It is too late for a flight," he replied as he looked away from those two pairs of pleading eyes. "And besides, wyvern-riding is getting riskier these days. It is much better for you to return to your room. Come, Lord Steven, I will escort you." He waited, but Steven said nothing. When he turned around again to look, he was nonetheless shocked to find that Darkstar had let Steven climbed onto its back, and was ready to take off.

"Darkstar, no!" he raised his voice, but the wyvern would not listen.

"So, what do I hold on to?" Steven asked as he settled himself on Darkstar's back.

Darkstar spread its wings and dashed forward to take off. Fearing for Steven's safety more than anything else at that moment, Lance gave chase and jumped on the wyvern's back just in time before the wyvern took off to the sky. He scrambled towards Steven, who seemed to deal with the rough take-off just fine, and settled down behind him. He shouted over the roaring wind, "Darkstar! What do you think you're doing? Get back down, now!"

But Darkstar did not heed his command. Instead, it flapped its wings and shot faster and faster into the sky, until finally, it flew past the tallest point of the palace, and smoothly slowed down.

"Wow," Steven said as he gazed down, "This is amazing."

Lance followed his gaze, and understood what he meant. The view from the sky was always breath-taking. Down below, the lights became nothing more than more white specks. The water in the canal glittered under the moonlight. The wind that caressed his face was icy cold, but for some reason, Lance felt warm inside.

Just then, he became aware that he had wound his left arm around Steven's waist during the rough take-off. Lance could feel warmth from his body as well. When he made a move to pull his arm away, Steven quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm back in place, "Don't. I feel safer like this."

There were many things Lance could have said in return, but all words evaporated when the realization that he was flying struck him.

"The palace," Steven suddenly let out a gasp, "It's glowing!"

Darkstar had been flying in bigger and bigger circles, until at last they were flying over the sky of the whole city. From up there, they could clearly see that the palace was glowing like the stars above. It was a phenomenon that could only be observed if one took to the sky on a wyvern's back at night. Lance remembered the first time he found out that the palace glowed with such an unearthly light; he had been as mesmerized as he was at that very moment.

"The Dragonlord's magic made the castle glow," Lance told Steven, not taking his eyes off the magnificent sight. "I'm not entirely sure how that works either, but some said that dragon magic flowed through the stones that make up the whole palace."

"I've never seen anything like this before," Steven was still awe-struck, but then he looked over his shoulder at Lance and said, with an adorable accusing look, "And you told me that it's too late for a flight."

Lance shook his head and said, "We're not supposed to be doing this."

"You know, I would've taken your words seriously if you weren't smiling like that," Steven said before he turned his gaze back at the scenery stretched out around them.

Only then did Lance realize that, aside from smiling to himself, the weariness which had been weighing on him slowly began to melt. It was as if the wind that blew against them carried off his weariness as well. He straightened his back and gazed at the endless horizon that stretched out before him.

He closed his eyes and soaked himself in the freedom he hadn't felt in a long time.

* * *

When they finally landed, the signs of dawn were coming. Darkstar landed on the place where he took off from and crouched low enough to let them get down. Lance hopped down first, before he offered his hand for Steven.

"Thank you," Steven smiled at him as he regained his footing on the solid ground. His face was flushed and his eyes were dreamy with happiness, "Thank you," he said, "For the ride."

"My pleasure," Lance replied, even though he felt that he was the one who was supposed to say 'thank you'. "Next time," he said instead, "Don't do that again. Especially not with any other wyvern you come across. You're lucky that Darkstar is tame."

Steven offered Lance his sweetest smile, "I'll keep that in mind." And then, unexpectedly, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on Lance's lips.

Lance was nonetheless taken aback.

Steven pulled back with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He placed a finger over his own lips and said, "That one is for your silence. Don't tell anyone about this, promise?"

Unsure of what t say, Lance merely nodded.

"I'll see you around," Steven said, before he turned around and began walking back to his room.

Lance watched him as he disappeared.

 _Does he really not know that I'm the King?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Dragon's Consort**

 **A/N: Sorry for late update. Won't promise a faster one next time.  
**

* * *

 **Steven**

"In three months, suitors from all over the United Realms will come to this palace for the courting season," the woman who was standing in front of the crowd said in her loud, high-pitched voice. "These are men of noble births, all looking for a respectable consorts," her gaze went over them as she paused, before she continued, "In three months time, my ladies and I will help you to polish you character and sharpen your wits, to make you all," she dramatically paused, "Slightly more acceptable."

For the umpteenth time that day, Steven had to force down another yawn. All around him, the young lord and ladies were listening to the woman's little speech intently, each of them frivolously dressed in brightly-colored clothes, high-heeled shoes, and an unbelievable amount of laces and ribbons. Some of them even had wigs which were colored, styled and decorated outrageously in Steven's opinion. Earlier that morning, a valet had come knocking on Steven's door just a few hours after he had returned from his little adventure. That valet had wanted to dress Steven 'in accordance with Johto's latest fashion', but Steven had strongly refused. They had a negotiation, and in the end, Steven had agreed to wear the corset under his white shirt, dark-blue tight breeches, a matching waistcoat, another matching coat over it, and shoes with the minimum amount of heels. Steven felt most unsatisfied with the corset, he would have preferred if the valet had agreed to abandon it completely, but 'a trim waist is the ideal form of male beauty', he had said stubbornly over and over again until Steven gave in. Surprisingly, the only thing that they both agreed upon was on Steven's hairstyle. 'My Lord has natural beauty', the valet had vaguely explained, and so nothing had been done to it.

"Do not think, not even for a second, that you hold any significance here. No, no, no. This is the palace, and you are all as insignificant as the flowers growing on the sidewalk."

Knowing that nothing important would come out of her mouth, Steven let his mind wandered to the little adventure he had the other night. He could still remember the warmth of the wyvern's body between his thighs, the gentleness of the breeze on his face, the magnificence of the whole kingdom spread out before him, and the tenderness of that mysterious rider's hand on his chest. It had been a magical night, no doubt, but for some odd reason, the memory of his first flight on a wyvern's back was overshadowed by the memory of that mysterious rider. He hadn't paid much attention to him at first, for the wyvern had taken all his attention, but when they were on the sky, all that Steven had thought about was how nice the rider's hand felt on his chest. After they had landed, Steven had taken a closer look at him, and the first thought that had come to his was, _he's not bad-looking._

That mysterious rider… He had hair as red as blood, elegantly swept back except for a single strand that fell between his golden eyes. He was half a head taller than Steven, and his body was slightly bigger as well, but his touch was gentle and his hands were warm. He didn't seem to lack manners either, as Steven had observed after they landed and that rider had offered his hand to help Steven get down. And his lips… It felt rough, but for some reason, Steven found himself thinking about the rider's lips over and over again. _I should have asked for his name._ Steven had been too giddy with joy to remember such trivial matter. _Well, in a palace this big, the chances of seeing him again is slim. Maybe I should go back to the garden tonight and see if he's there… But, he told me that I can't leave without an escort… Hmph, an escort. Why would I-_

"Lord Steven!" the shrill voice jarred Steven from his train of thoughts. He quickly stood and gazed at the woman who had approached him while he was daydreaming. She critically gazed at him. "Daydreaming in the middle of orientation? How inexplicably ignorant of you. As brother of a minor lord from Hoenn who has neither name nor land, I suggest you start taking court much more seriously, unless you want to end up…" she waved her hand purposefully, "Someplace unpleasant."

Slave auction. Brothel. Steven knew what she meant to say. It wasn't a rare story in Hoenn. It often happened. Eldest brothers would usually sell their own siblings in order to eliminate competition for the inheritance. Then they would fake their siblings' deaths as a series of tragic accidents. "My apologies," Steven said, "I didn't get much sleep the other night."

"Yes, I was told that you arrived late into the night," she nodded, "But that does not give you an excuse to behave so," Again with the hand gesture, "Carelessly."

Steven was getting irritated of her voice and hand gestures, "Once again, my sincere apologies," he barely managed to bit back his bitterness.

She once again gazed at him with critical eyes, "I believe, Lord Steven, that you are going to need to work harder to polish off those… Rough edges."

"Yes, my lady."

She nodded, looking a little bit pleased, before she turned around and continued with her speech.

Steven sat back down and let his mind wandered to that mysterious wyvern rider once again.

* * *

It was hard to sneak out of the West Wing without being noticed. Even though the night was late, there were many servants roaming about the hallways, scrubbing, cleaning, polishing, walking-by… The networks of hallways were complex enough to give Steven a chance to slip around them, but there were also some close moments when he thought he was a goner. He would have escaped out of his window to avoid that kind f hassle, but his room was so high up the ground and the exterior walls were too smooth for Steven to climb down. So the only route available was to sneak down onto the ground floor, and then jump out of the first exit he saw.

Once he got outside, he only needed to walk around a bit to figure out his location. Steven gazed up at the night sky full of stars as he wondered where he should go next. A part of him wanted to go look for the royal library, while another part of him wanted to go back to the garden. After a bit of mental struggle, the part of him that wanted to see that rider again won, and so he directed his steps to the garden.

It didn't take him long to reach that particular place, and once he got there, he was greeted by the sight of that rider and his wyvern.

That rider was giving his back to Steven as he stroked his wyvern's snout, and so Steven wasn't able to make out much of him except for the black coat that reached down to his heels. For a moment, Steven wondered if he too was subjected to the cruelty of suffocating corsets and tight breeches. He studied him from afar, wondering as his eyes drank in every curve of his body. _His waist isn't that trim,_ Steven observed, but a trim waist wouldn't go well on that rider. Just imagining it made Steven frowned.

Suddenly, the wind blew, and then as if he just picked up Steven's scent on the wind, the rider turned around. Their gazes locked for a moment, sky blue meeting golden.

* * *

 **Lance**

"You're here, again," Lance noted first of all after he snapped out of his trance. "In the middle of the night, without an escort. I believed I have warned you about this the last time we met."

"I kept thinking about you the whole day," Steven replied, his tone painfully conversational despite his claim.

Lance didn't know how to respond to that. He had never been confronted by such a straightforward person in his whole life. The people around him were always so painfully subtle and polite, since he was the most powerful man in the whole United Realms and all that. He struggled to search for words as he watched Steven approached. The silver-haired lord reached out for Darkstar and stroked the fire wyvern gently. Darkstar growled in recognition and leaned in to his touch.

"So warm…" Steven absently murmured.

"Are you… Cold?" Lance never felt so lost at that moment. _Calm down, calm down, you're the King. Handle this situation like one._

Steven looked at him and shook his head, "Not really, but your wyvern…" he glanced at Darkstar, "He's really warm. Like that one comfortable blanket in winter you never want to let go."

"Well, he is a fire wyvern…" Lance lamely replied. _Keep yourself together and send him back to his room immediately. He's a young lord, it's not safe for his reputation if someone finds out he likes to sneak out of his room doing the-dragons-knows-what._ "Lord Steven, you-"

"I didn't get your name the other night," Steven cut him off. "I was too excited that I forgot. It sort of irritates me that I can't put on a name on you when I keep thinking about you all day." He offered Lance a small smile, and for some reason, Lance felt his heart constrict a little.

"It's…" Lance hesitated; he wasn't used to introducing himself. Wherever he went, people automatically knew him. "Lance, my name's Lance."

"Lance?" the young lord tiled his head questioningly, "That's funny, you have the same name as the king."

 _I am the king!_ Lance frowned. _Is this guy dense?_

* * *

 **Steven**

 _No, no, no way! He can't be the king!_

 _By the dragons, I KISSED THE KING!_

 _He's not the king!_

 _AND I HIJACKED HIS FUCKING DRAGON!_

 _It's a wyvern, and no, he can't possibly be the king!_

 _THE KING LAID HIS HANDS ON ME THE OTHER NIGHT!_

 _Calm down, calm down, **calm down**! If he is the king, WHY ISN"T HE DRESSED LIKE ONE?_

 _WHY THE HECK ISN'T HE DRESSED LIKE ONE?_

* * *

 **Lance**

The silence that ensued seemed to stretch on forever.

"Lord Steven?" Lance hesitantly asked as he studied the blank face staring back at him. "Is there something wrong?"

His words made the young lord twitched. Suddenly, the blank look was replaced with an easy, nervous smile, "Oh right, I'm alright, I'm fine, nothing's wrong with me, and all…" his voice trailed off as his eyes began wandering around. "I think… I'll just go back to my room." Without waiting for Lance to say anything else, he quickly turned around.

Lance, however, grabbed his arm before he could leave. Steven looked over his shoulder at Lance, the panic and dread now obvious on his face. Lance was nonetheless amused. "Let me walk you back to your room, Lord Steven."

"N-No, it's fine," he stuttered as he pulled his arm away from Lance's grip, "I'm fine, it's all fine." His lips were trembling and his eyes were wide.

A desire to kiss those fragile-looking lips crossed Lance's mind for a moment, but he quickly pushed it down with rational thoughts. "You don't look so well," Lance pointed out, "And besides, it's late. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you on your way back." _Especially considering how vulnerable you look right now._ Blackthorn might be the safest kingdom of all the United Realms, but all its walls could not protect Steven from men's carnal desires. The thought of someone else laying hand on that silver-haired man made him shudder with disgust.

Another shorter silence ensued. Steven then looked down as he replied, "Alright." He reluctantly slipped his arm around Lance's, and proceeded to say nothing else as they made their way back to the West Wing.

For some reason, Lance felt that he needed to say something. He wanted to say something to ease the troubled look on Steven's face, but he couldn't come up with the right words. Sending the wrong message was the last thing he wanted to do, especially considering that Steven was a part of the upcoming Court. In the end, they reached the West Wing without any of them saying a single word. _By the dragons, I can't even say the right words to this man. Why the hell did they make me king?_

"I-I'll be fine from here," Steven immediately said as he unhooked his arm off Lance's. "I…" he paused for a moment, looking at anywhere but Lance, "I'm really sorry, for all the trouble I made." He bowed stiffly, "Good night, _your highness._ "

Completely at a loss of words, Lance merely nodded and said, "Rest well, Lord Steven."

Without another word, Steven climbed up the steps. Lance watched him leave with a sinking feeling in his chest. For some reason, it felt as if he was never going to see Steven again.

"You said you've been thinking about me."

Those words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. When he realized what he had done, it was already too late. His words were spoken loud enough for Steven to hear.

The young lord stop in his steps and turned around to look at Lance, a surprised look on his face, which was then quickly replaced with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" his voice weakly trailed off. "I didn't know that you were… And I just thought that you are…" he shook his head, as if confused even with his own words. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," Lance replied. He searched for the right words again, but nothing sounded diplomatic and yet fitting for the current situation. _What am I doing?_ He felt as if he was drowning in the silence which he knew he needed to fill.

"I didn't really mean it any other way," Steven was the one who finally filled the silence, "It's just that… You're very handsome, and attractive. Your highness."

 _Stay diplomatic. Remember, he's part of the Court. The last thing you need are rumors and gossips flying around before Court even starts._ "Thank you." Another depressing silence ensued. Frustrated, Lance finally said, "Until we meet again, Lord Steven." Incapable of facing the silence again, Lance turned his back on the young lord and left without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dragon's Consort**

 **A/N: Lol, sometimes I'm amazed by the craps I can write.  
**

* * *

 **Lance**

 _"I kept thinking about you the whole day."_

Lance nearly spilled his drink when he caught himself repeating those words in his mind, _again._

"Your Highness, is something wrong?" his most trusted advisor, Agatha, asked. "You have been doing that a lot today."

"Doing what?"

"Nearly jumping out of your seat." She answered before she put off her glasses and settled it on the middle of the desk. She leaned slightly forward on her seat across him and said, with a very serious tone, "Listen, I know that the pressure is weighing down heavily on you. I told that old man Oak that forcing you to choose a Consort isn't going to do much good if you're not happy about it," she shrugged, "But you know that old gruff and the other councilors, they think they know what's best."

Lance gave her a confused look.

"Lance, I truly believe that you don't need to feel pressured to choose a Consort," Agatha continued. "Your happiness is all that mattered. If you're happy, the dragons will be happy, and then everything's going to be just fine. You don't have to listen to old man Oak, just do whatever it is that makes you happy."

"Whatever makes me happy?" Lance tried the words in his mouth and thought of what he would do if he was indeed given such a freedom. He gazed out of the window, and then, once again, those words rang through his mind. _"I kept thinking about you the whole day."_ The words sounded more and more seducing with each repetition. It sounded huskier and darker, filled with promises of pleasure he hadn't dared indulge himself in after a long, long time. A jolt of excitement shot through his spine as he imagined what he would do to Steven once he had that exotic beauty writhing and begging beneath him.

His pale skin would be flushed, his silver eyes would be glazed with wanton desires. Lance would claim those perfect lips as he thrust deep inside-

Lance jumped out of his daydream with a jolt, and he let out a growl.

"Is there anything you would like to tell me, Lance?" Agatha asked, a rare concern filled her voice.

Lance shook his head and rose, "I just need to take a walk."

He left the room without saying another word.

* * *

 **Steven**

His brother often told him that he was a devious little shit. He was often praised by many for being cunning and smart. Back in his adventuring days, his brilliantly hatched plans got him out of troubles all the time. Steven was undoubtedly gifted in when it comes to using his brain, and yet last night, for the very first time in his life, he felt utterly dumb. Not just utterly, but devastatingly dumb. He felt as if his whole world was beginning to fall apart, his walls and reality all crumbling down around him into dust and rubbles. He had never felt so stupid, so clueless, so dense… _He is the King,_ Steven kept on replaying those words over and over again in his mind ever since he first woke the morning after, and trailing behind it was a vivid flashback of all the interactions they shared in the brief time together. _I am an idiot,_ the vicious loop ended with that thought, before he began again with, _he is the King._

He went through the morning almost mechanically. He didn't argue with his valet over the tightness of his corset, he didn't greet any of the young lords or ladies as he entered the breakfast hall – a mistake which did not went unnoticed by that screeching woman from orientation day whose name Steven hadn't bother to learn – and he didn't even know what he was doing until a clear voice suddenly cut through his line of thought.

"Look out!"

Immediately, he turned his gaze towards the source of that voice. However, before he could see who had yelled out so urgently, he felt a sharp coldness penetrated his chest and took the breath out of his lungs. At that moment, as he was falling onto his back, his seemingly-stuck mind began to reel once again at full speed. _Ice magic,_ his mind quickly concluded. His eyes quickly traced the trajectory of the attack, and saw a small figure standing in the distance. _Just a child,_ his alarm went off, he wasn't in any real danger. It was just an accident. _Damn it, where have I wandered off to?_ He gritted as he closed his eyes, trying to find out the amount of damage the attack had inflicted upon him. His chest felt cold, almost frozen. He tried to inhale, but that action sent a painful chill through his body. _Frost Spear,_ he concluded the name of the spell and horror crept up his heart. _Where the hell did a mere child learn such a dangerous spell?_ His body finally came in contact with the ground, and yet the pain caused by the impact was minute compared to the pain he experienced from just trying to breath. He opened his mouth, trying to get air into his lungs by an alternative way, but it didn't make any difference. The pain was cold and merciless.

He knew Frost Spear, an old friend taught him that spell a long time ago. It was lethal, yes, but there was a way to counter it. _But how?_ He screamed, his mind scrambling in the dark for the right answer. None came. The pain was meddling with his mind, and the coldness was spreading to the tips of his fingers. HIs mind was still madly scrambling for an answer. _Fuck, I can't die like this!_ He gasped, trying to breath, but his lungs shrieked in protest. _No… Not like this…_

"Lord Steven!" He heard voices, all calling his name. Cracking open his eyelids, he saw that many faces were all staring down at him, fear and concern written on their faces. Steven wanted to yell at them to do something, but he couldn't even breathe without hurting himself.

"Out of the way!" a voice snapped, commanding and fierce, yet there was a hint of fear. The crowd gasped, made funny noises that Steven couldn't comprehend in his current state. He didn't know if Frost Spear also cause the victim to become delirious, but at that moment, Steven saw Lance, his face unreadable and yet Steven noticed that there was a glimpse of panic in his eyes.

Steven couldn't hold back a smirk. _This is your damn fault._

* * *

 **Lance**

 _A few minutes before…_

 _He's getting better,_ Lance couldn't hold back a small smile of pride as he watched his son trained with one of the royal mage. They were training down there on the palace's courtyard, practicing simple spells and combat skills. Even though his second son, Kyle, was only eight years old, many told him that he showed great talent for wielding magic. He grasped spells quicker than any kid of his age, and he was able to demonstrate them to quite an astonishing level of perfection. He was also very serious and diligent in his training; it seemed as if that boy was born to study and delve into the mysterious world of their ancient magic.

"Your Highness."

Lance glanced to his side, and noticed that the Commander of the mage Division was standing there in the hallway not far from him. Lance had heard her footsteps coming, she was always in her heavy boots and so her footsteps were easily noticeable. He acknowledged her with a look, before he returned his gaze to his training son. The royal mage had brought along another child who was slightly older than Kyle, and it seemed as if they were going to spar. _This should be interesting._ "Commander Jasmine. What brings you here?" he asked absently as he observed the two children taking their positions.

"I came here to report about the wyverns," Commander Jasmine said, her voice sweet and calm. With the way she was dressed in her full black uniform, shoulder guard, and a sword attached to her belt, nobody would have thought that she would be capable of producing such a gentle voice. "They are a lot calmer today, some of them even tolerated riders on their backs."

"Good to hear," Lance replied distractedly, his eyes still on the spar.

Commander Jasmine observed the King curiously, before she followed his gaze. She smiled as she watched Kyle sparring. "Ah, the young Prince looks lively today, isn't he?"

Lance smiled, "He sure does."

Jasmine chuckled lightly, "He reminds me of you when you were younger… So eager and bright." She scanned the yard for a moment, before she asked, "Where is Keith?"

Lance chuckled, "He's probably with Commander Morty, crying after him to teach him how to wield the sword or something. He doesn't really have the patient with magic." His smile broadened as he thought about his first-born son, Keith. Even though they were born from the same mother at almost exactly the same time, the two of them couldn't be any more different. Kyle was quiet, reserved, patient, and calm, whereas Keith was fiery, short-tempered and could be obnoxiously loud when he wanted to be. Kyle was also gifted with the talent of wielding magic, whereas Keith was given no such gift. Still, despite their differences, they got along remarkably well.

Jasmine smiled as well, "He thinks a sword is much cooler than magic."

"His mother taught him that," Lance said as he rolled his eyes, "Fed him stories of evil witches and heroes with shining swords… I still don't understand how Kyle is unaffected."

Jasmine laughed, "You really don't know?"

Lance looked at her again, "Know what?"

Jasmine was about to open her mouth to reply, but then she caught something out of the corner of her eyes. Interested by what she caught a glimpse of, she leaned over and looked down on the other end of the yard. A group of people were moving through the yard and was walking in the direction of the royal riding ground. "The lords and ladies of this year's courts," she murmured as she studied them.

Lance followed her gaze, and was nonetheless amazed when he found himself quickly spotting a certain silver-haired young lord. His heart thumped against his chest as erotic images began to fill his mind. He quickly looked away in embarrassment. It felt inappropriate to think of such things when his subject was nearby. To take his mind off the disturbing fantasy, he gazed back down at his son, who at that moment received quiet a nasty hit to his shoulder. The boy cried out in pain, before casting a spell which he aimed at his opponent's head.

"Kyle, no!"

Lance watched with disbelief as the royal mage grabbed his son's opponent out of the way, and as Frost Spear shot out of Kyle's palm and went flying straight ahead towards-

"Look out!" the royal mage shouted to warn the lords and ladies to get out of the way, but his warning came a bit too late.

Jasmine gasped, and for a moment, Lance forgot how to breathe. The attack had hit Lord Steven right on his chest. _No…_ He watched with widened eyes as he saw that young lord fell onto the ground. And at that moment, he felt something he never thought he would ever be able to feel again. It was pure, gut-wrenching fear. **_NO!_** He climbed the baluster and swiftly jumped onto the ground.

"Your Highness!" Commander Jasmine cried out in shock, for it was quiet a daring leap.

However, Lance landed on his feet safely, almost gracefully, and then he proceeded to rush towards the fallen lord. His heart was racing, and yet his sweat was cold. In his mind, he was turning through every memory he had about Frost Spear. _It's not fatal! It's not fatal! It's not supposed to be fatal!_ He kept on screaming to himself. "Out of the way," he commanded the people crowding Steven as if he was commanding his wyverns. They parted after they heard him, and gasped audibly when they recognized who he was. Lance paid them no mind as he got down on one knee next to the young lord and pressed his palm against Steven's chest.

Steven's lips had lost its lustrous shade of red, and he was grimacing with every breathe he took. His body felt cold, even with the layers of clothing that separated his palm and the skin beneath. With unrivaled desperation, he gathered his power in his palm, and channeled his magic into Steven, hoping that it would work, or least do something to counter the spell. _Please, let it work, please please, please._ His palm glowed in a warm orange light, and the glow then flowed into Steven's chest.

Lance didn't realize he was holding his breath until the pained look on Steven's face disappeared, and he loudly exhaled. His magic had worked, he knew from the start that it would work, but the dread was still there nonetheless. He had never been so scared in his life. Even as he slipped his arms around Steven and lifted the unconscious young lord, the dread was still in his nerves.

His son, Kyle, had approached during the whole ordeal. There was a guilty look on his face as he stopped before his father. For an eight-year-old, he was adorable with his short red hair, puffy cheeks, and brilliant blue eyes. Added with the fact that he was looking guilty, he was the epitome of adorableness. The sight of his son like that would have touched him if he wasn't so poisoned with fear. He stood before his son and looked down on him coldly.

"P-Papa," the boy started, fidgeting nervously under his father's cold gaze. "I didn't mean to hurt him. It was an accident."

Lance could have said something, anything really, to make his son felt better about the whole situation. Ideally, he should say something to scold his child in stern and wise manner. And yet at that moment, he found no wisdom of a father in him. All he felt was fear and rage. It froze all the warmth he felt towards his own son.

"You could have killed him."

Those words struck Kyle as if it was a physical blow. No, not because of his words, but because of his voice and the way he spoke those words. The child began sobbing and then crying.

Lance didn't even bother to comfort him as he turned around and walked away.

* * *

 **Steven**

The first thing that Steven became aware of was the weight of a heavy quilt over his body. And then he heard the loud crackling of burning firewood. For a moment, he thought that he was back home in Rustboro, slowly stirring to another cold morning of snow, snow, and more snow. He tugged the quilt more tightly around him, not quite ready to get out of bed just yet. It still felt cold, despite the quilt and fire, perhaps it was still lte in the night? A dull ache which he felt in his chest when he breathed suddenly reminded him that he was no longer in Rustboro, and that he had been attacked by an ice magic.

Quickly, he opened his eyes, and found that he was lying on a huge bed in an unfamiliar room. It wasn't the room which he had been assigned to when he first came to Blackthorn. For one thing, this room was a lot larger. He didn't dwell much on his new environment though as he suddenly recalled what had happened earlier before he passed out. _I'm not dead?_ He pressed a hand against his chest. A chill went through his body, but he could also feel his own heartbeat. He was still alive. _Someone must have saved me._ And only then did he remember seeing the King before he fell unconscious.

Quickly, he sat up.

 _Oh, shit._

The King had saved his life.

And all the problem which had been bothering him before the assault came crashing back on him. This time, however, he didn't let it overwhelm him as before. He scolded himself internally for being distracted by such a irreparable problem in the first place. Sure, he had acted a bit out of line, but the King didn't look pissed, his head was still intact after all. And yes, maybe he just screwed up his astronomically minute chance with the King, but that didn't mean anything. He wasn't interested in the King from the beginning. _I'm such an idiot for worrying too much,_ he bitterly thought. He then pushed the issue with the King to the back of his mind and focused his attention on his current state.

His chest still felt rather cold, and every breath he took still chilled his lungs, but he was alive, and breathing wasn't such a problem, so he deduced that he was alright. _That was really dangerous though,_ Steven thought as he recalled the attack that had struck him, _was that an attempt of assassination or what?_ For a moment, he thought of the possibility of a scenario where someone found out he had been hanging around the King and thought that he was a threat who needed to be eliminated, but then he shook the idea out of his head. It was just too ridiculous. He had seen a child in the distance when he was falling. The child was young, and so not likely to harbor any ill-will towards him. _An accident… Still, how did a mere child cast such a dangerous spell? By the Dragons, Blackthorn is a much more dangerous place than I first thought._

Just then, he heard the door of his room swung open. Turning his gaze, he saw that the King had stepped into his room, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Your Highness," Steven greeted him as respectfully as he could in his state. _Just act normal, keep it cool._

"Lord Steven," Lance returned as he closed the door shut behind him. Then he walked over and stood next to the bed, "I see that you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Cold," Steven replied with the first word that came to his mind. "But I think I'll be fine." The King was dressed in a black coat embroidered with red dragon. Thinking back, it was the same coat he wore when Steven saw him the second time. For a King, he didn't seem to bother dressing up like one.

The King was silent for a moment, studying Steven with his intense golden eyes, before he spoke again, "That spell… It's a dangerous spell, but it's nothing fatal."

"I know," Steven replied, trying his best not to look nervous by looking around or fidgeting. It was hard though, he found that he couldn't look back into those intense eyes for long. "I know a thing or two about magic." He wanted to elaborate, but then realized that he really couldn't afford nervously babbling off in front of the King. Lance was the King after all, he most definitely didn't have time for stories about his past.

"The coldness _might_ disappear in a few days," Lance said after a short, awkward pause.

"Might?" Steven asked, slightly surprised by the stress on that word.

"I did my best to counter that spell," Lance explained. "I have never been faced with this kind of predicament before, and so I am not quite sure how this will turn out in the end. But trust me, I am doing my best to find a way to help you."

"Oh…" Steven finally found the excuse to look down at his own hands. So there was a chance that he _might_ end up with this constant coldness for the rest of his live? It was absurd to hear, but not plausible either, since he perfectly recalled that he had thought he was going to die. The damage the magic had done was probably severe enough to leave a permanent damage. _Well, this sucks…_ The coldness, he could probably tolerate, but the slightly chill he felt every single time he inhaled? Probably not. It was getting irritating.

"I would like to apologize to you, on behalf on my son."

Those words caught his attention again. The gears quickly turned in his head. _His son? He's apologizing on behalf of his son? So then… That means…_ He was nonetheless dumbfounded. _So it was his son?_ He recalled the silhouette of the young boy he saw in the far distance. A part of him was angry that Lance had allowed his son to learn such dangerous spell before the child even knew the meaning of responsibility, but another part of him had let the issue go. The child was innocent, he was sure, and really, he didn't harbor any hard feelings towards anyone. It was mostly his fault, if he hadn't been daydreaming, stuck in a vicious cycle of his own thoughts, he would have been able to sense that attack coming, he would have been able to avoid or even block it.

"I didn't know where he learned that spell from, but I can assure you, he will be punished severely."

Something in Lance's tone made Steven feel guilty all of a sudden. It was harsh, it sounded more like a threat he was more than willing to carry out than anything else. "He's just a child," Steven quickly said. "There's no need to punish him. He didn't know what he was doing."

"He harmed you."

Steven looked at the King again, wondering why it mattered so much, "It doesn't matter. I'm alright." Besides, it was his own son, why would he be unnecessarily harsh to him?

"No, you're not." The King insisted.

Steven was nonetheless at a loss for words. He didn't think the punishment was necessary. The culprit was just a clueless child. And sure, he got hurt and all, and there might be a possibility that he would have to live with the coldness and chill for the rest of his live, but it didn't matter considering that he grew up in Rustboro, the northern-most province in the whole map. Coldness and chilling air were a part of his childhood. So, really, there was nothing to fuss over. So why was the King being so insistent?

"I'm alright," Steven repeated again in a weak attempt to argue, "This is nothing. I'm fine, really."

The King studied him with yet another unreadable expression on his face, before he finally nodded and said, "If that is the case, then you have my sincerest gratitude."

Steven nodded in return, "You're welcome." Silence fell between them. The silence was as heavy as it had been last night. Steven hated this kind of silence that hung between them, he had never felt so pressured to say something. "I…" he hesitated, before he recalled that he hadn't expressed his gratitude to the King for saving his life. Without a second thought, he grabbed that thought and quickly spoke, "Thank you, for saving my life, your highness."

"Oh, yes…" The King nodded, "You're welcome."

The silence fell between them again. _So fucking awkward._ Steven felt like killing himself right there and then. Back home, he was known as the smoothest guy in town. During his travel, his ability to play with words had saved him countless of times. And yet, why was he so tongue-tied when faced with the King? It used to be easy before Steven found out that Lance was the King.

"I will leave you to rest some more," Lance successfully broke the silence over them, and Steven was secretly grateful. "If you are in need of anything, please do not hesitate to call," he said as he pointed at the bell placed on the bedside table next to the bed. "Please rest easy. And do not wander off without supervision." He added the last line after a short pause.

Steven couldn't hold back a small smile at the last line. "I understand."

"Rest well, Lord Steven." The King then turned around and walked out of the room

Steven watched as the door closed, before he finally laid down on the bed with a loud sigh.

Unexpectedly, things just got weirder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Dragon's Consort**

 **A/N: The chapter in which the romance begins to bloom. (?)  
**

* * *

 **Steven**

"How are you feeling, Lord Steven?"

Steven inwardly winced when he heard her voice. The shrill woman from the orientation whose name he still hadn't bother to learn came to visit several hours since the king left. Even though Steven didn't really like her, he welcomed her presence in that quite, boring room.

"Better," he replied. "When will they let me return to my room?"

"As soon as the healer declares that you are healthy," she said. "And until that time arrives, you are to stay here and follow the healer's order. You have to be grateful to the King, he has ordered for the best healer in the Kingdom to be brought here to heal you. I must say, you are one very lucky young lord. The lords and ladies in the court would have done anything if it means getting to be right where you were when his son assaulted you."

Steven couldn't help but stare, until the gears in his head finally turned again and he remembered that it was the King who had saved him.

"You have jumped ahead into the game, Lord Steven," the shrill woman said with knowing smile. "You are now the object of envy of every bachelors and bachelorettes. You are going to have to watch your back much more carefully from now on."

Steven quickly realized what she was implying. With a look of horror on his face, he turned to look at her and said, "Oh, no." If the incident earlier didn't scream 'I have a likely chance with the King' right at the faces of those young lords and ladies, then he didn't know what else will.

The woman's smile got wider, "For someone who comes from the most isolated Province, you are quite ambitious, aren't you?"

"It's not my intention to-"

"Your intention doesn't matter, Lord Steven. This is the Court, and this year, the King is going to choose a Consort. Being a Consort to the King means being the second most powerful person in all the realms. The competition is not only going to be fierce, it's going to be bloody as well. If you cannot handle it, then I suggest you go home." She paused, before her face softened, "Intentional or not, you have caught the attention of the King. The others are going to treat you as their rival. You need to be careful from now on. I do not want to have to explain to your brother how we found your lifeless body."

"Thanks you," Steven managed to say, even though he suddenly felt sick to the stomach. He didn't want this. He didn't want to catch the King's attention. All he wanted was to explore Blackthorn and all its secret places, and maybe indulge himself in carnal pleasures once or twice, before heading home. How did he get tangled into this Court politic matter?

He sighed as he gazed out of the window across his bed. Outside, the sky is getting darker, but the silhouettes of dragons can still be seen. They were black against the violet sky, majestically flying over the Blackthorn Kingdom without a care in the world.

 _What am I getting myself into?_

* * *

Steven couldn't sleep. It was dark outside, but he had been sleeping through the day, and hadn't done anything else aside from staring at the ceiling, and sleeping again. The chill in his chest was still there, but he felt a bit better than before. Finally, after several minutes of restless tossing and turning, he decided that orders from the King be damned, he needed to get out. And so he grabbed his coat, and got out of the room.

The hallway outside was carpeted in royal red and the walls were decorated with ferocious paintings of dragons and wyverns. He gazed into each one of them in awe, appreciating the vividness and details. One painting showed a huge ice dragon roaring into the bright blue sky, another showed two wyverns fighting in the air. There was also one which depicted a gigantic fire dragon, with its whole body wrapped in flames , hurtling towards an ancient castle.

The Palace of Dragons indeed, Steven mused as he saw more and more paintings of dragons, each of them no less captivating than the others. Just how many are there? Who painted them?

 _Wait, the most important question here is... Where am I?_

Even though he had an suspicion that the King had brought him into the royal wing, his mind was still struggling to confront that suspicion. Sure, it was his son who injured him, but was it really necessary to bring him into the royal wing? An answer to that question stubbornly tried to surface, but he pushed it down with reasons and denials.

He wandered through the halls, trying to look for any stairs that could lead him out of there. The hallways sloped up and down, curved left and right, branched into two, sometimes three, and Steven was rendered so confused that he began thinking he would never be able to find a way out of that cursed place. Finally, after what felt like hours, Steven caught sight of an archway that seemed to lead outside. A bubble of relieve rose within him as he walked towards it and recognized the black night sky and the stars.

The archway led him to an open vast garden, filled with green shrubs and colorful flowers. A giant willow tree grew in the middle of the garden, huge and ancient, glowing with an unearthly light. Curious, Steven walked down the white marble path which led him straight towards the willow tree. The closer he got, the more he realized that the tree was beyond massive. It was gigantic. It stood as tall as a tower, and wider than the gates of the biggest palace he had ever seen. Its roots grew out of the ground it was planted in, thick and sturdy, curved in such a way that made the tree looked as if it was trying to push itself out of the ground it was rooted in. Its leaves were lush green, but they glowed with a light that felt magical. It was not an ordinary tree, anyone could tell.

Steven gazed up in amazement; he had never seen anything like this before. He closed his eyes, and inhaled the earthly scent, and it was so soothing that he forgot all about his worries almost immediately. He felt a strong reverence towards this tree, as if it was a part of something so mystical and mysterious that he couldn't possibly comprehend.

"What are you doing here?"

The voice snapped Steven out of his trance. He turned to look, and saw a young boy standing not too far away from him by the tree. He was probably around eight, with flaming red hair and golden eyes that strongly reminded him of...

"Prince Keith?" The name escaped his lips, even though he wasn't really sure if the boy was supposed to be Keith or Kyle. He had heard of the names given to the young princes when they were born from the mouths of many. The birth of twin princes was thought to be a sign of good fortune, and so it was practically impossible not to have heard of their names. Steven had never seen them before; they were just mere names, nobody important that had anything to do with him. Now he was looking at one of the two, and he was nonetheless struck by the strong resemblance that boy had with his father; not identical, but still a strong resemblance.

"Only father and we can come in here," the boy spoke, and he glared, but coming from someone so young, it was barely threatening. "You don't belong here."

Steven wondered if Prince Keith was the one who had assaulted him earlier. If that was the case, then Steven had a reason to be worried. He observed the boy, trying to measure him, but the thought that such a young boy could cast such a deadly spell was still hard for him to accept.

"Remove yourself from this place at once," the boy raised his voice. "Or else-"

"Keith, wait," a softer child voice interrupted. Steven turned his attention to the source of that softer voice, and was nonetheless surprised when he saw the exact same copy of the young boy that stood before him. He was standing behind a huge protruding root, peeking almost sheepishly at them. Kyle? Or is it Keith? Steven was confused.

"You know him?" the first of the two asked, his voice braver and louder compared to the other.

The second one nodded, "That man... He is... The one who I..." his voice trailed off, before his head quickly disappeared behind the tree again.

As if understanding what his twin brother was trying to say, the first boy turned his gaze at Steven again, this time, the glare missing from his eyes. "You were the one Kyle hurt earlier?"

Steven glanced in the direction where Kyle was hiding, and nodded, "You don't have to feel so guilty, Prince Kyle, I understand that it was just an accident."

"Why didn't you dodge?" Prince Keith, the one who was standing before him, demanded.

Steven blinked, unprepared for such question, "I..." Could he really be honest and tell the boy that he was daydreaming?

"Keith, stop it," the soft voice rescued Steven from having to answer the question. "He didn't do anything wrong... It was my fault." Kyle sounded so heart-broken that Steven immediately realized why he was hiding from him. The boy was crying.

Now, a lot of people he knew have soft spots for children. They, when faced with a crying child, always knew the right words to say to comfort them and bring a smile to their faces. Steven wasn't one of them. He was unaccustomed to children at his best.

"It wasn't your fault! It was his for not paying attention!" Keith insisted as he turned towards the direction of his twin brother.

"Great granny told me not to use that spell, but I used it anyway, it was my fault! I'm a bad child and now papa hates me!" Kyle then began crying loud enough for Steven to hear.

"No, no, your father doesn't hate you," Steven said, though his voice didn't sound as sure as he wanted it to be. What did he know about their father anyway? From their previous interaction in the bedroom, the King had sounded like a strict father, but somehow that trait didn't seem to fit in well with the person Steven had talked to on his first night in Blackthorn.

"If papa hates you, then we'll look for a new papa!" Keith told his brother.

"I don't think that's necessary, Prince Keith," Steven said, feeling weirdly amused by this ridiculous conversation. A conversation that somehow made him thought of his own deceased father. "Your father may be strict, and sometimes his words may be harsh, but deep inside, he still loves you. There's no way a father can hate his own children."

"But... but..." Kyle's sob resounded, softer this time. "Papa was so mad at me..."

 _How do I answer that?_ Steven knew that he had no reason to comfort them, but somehow, he felt rather obliged. Well, it was partly his fault that this kind of misunderstanding existed in the first place. But, by the dragons, how was he supposed to answer that? How mad was the King anyway?

"Maybe... if you apologize and promise him that you won't use that spell again... Umm, he won't be so mad anymore?" he was making things up, but it was better than saying nothing.

For a moment, there was silence, but then Kyle peeked out shyly from his hiding place. He looked at Steven and asked, "You really think so?"

"I really think so." To be honest, he wasn't even sure what he was doing, but the boy wasn't crying anymore, so he must have done something right.

"Alright…" Kyle sniffed as he wiped the tears away from his eyes, "I'll talk to papa…"

 _Children are really simple, aren't they?_ Steven was nonetheless amused. He thought back to his own father, and all those years he had spent refusing to apologize to him. _I wish I was that simple-minded…_ His thoughts were suddenly interrupted, however, when he heard the leaves above rustling loudly. He turned his gaze upward, and saw dark shadows moving among the strong branches. He froze. Why hadn't he notice before?

"They don't want you here…" Keith told him, and there was a hint of darkness in his voice that Steven didn't like at all. "They don't like you…"

Steven took a step back, and realized with a mix of confusion and horror that those dark figures up there were Wyverns; Wyverns that didn't want him there. He glanced at Keith and Kyle, who were both staring at the wyverns up there. Suddenly, Keith stepped up and said, "Do not harm him. He will leave now."

With gaze still fixed on the wyverns above, Steven took a careful step back, just to demonstrate his willingness to leave. The wyverns let out a threatening growl. _I should have stayed in that room,_ he thought regretfully as he took another step backward, this time much more slowly.

"Leave him alone!" Kyle suddenly shouted at them.

"If you hurt him, father will get very mad!" Keith added.

The wyverns moved from branch to branch, getting lower and lower. Steven was very tempted to just bolt out of that place, but he knew that giving his back to these creatures simply meant suicide. He took another step back, not taking his eyes off them for even a second.

"Behind you!" Kyle's voice rang out in warning.

Steven glanced over his shoulder, and immediately, his heart leapt up to his throat, for towering twice his height behind him is a huge, scary, black dragon with teeth sharper than any razor Steven had ever seen. The dragon looked down on him with its golden eyes, threatening and dangerous. Its wings were outstretched, and its tail swished from side to side lazily and yet powerfully. Its arm was as big as Steven himself, and he was pretty sure one strike from that powerful arm could kill him.

Steven's heart drummed rapidly against his chest, and cold sweat damped his palms and forehead.

For the second time that day, he thought, _I can't possibly die like this._

* * *

 **Lance**

When his wife, the Queen, died two years ago, Lance had made a vow to himself that he would raise his children with the passion and wisdom of a true father. He tried hard, he very well did. Every single day, he spared time to play with them, every night before bed, he kissed them good night. He tried to be reasonable and understanding, strict and kind, wise and gentle. However, for some reason, he couldn't control himself earlier, and the guilt that haunted him at that moment was real and troubling. He remembered how he had lost it, how he threw those words at Kyle, and how his son had cried as he walked away so uncaringly. What had gotten into him?

He sipped his wine as he gazed out of the window. It was getting dark outside, and the wyverns were slowly disappearing into the far horizon. Deep inside, he longed to be on the back of one of those wyverns, speeding away through the skies, leaving all his burdens and worry behind. He longed to be free like he once used to be. Yet, he knew that he couldn't be so irresponsible. The peace of all the realms depended on him.

Lance sighed as he gulped down the content of his glass.

Besides, running away from his problem wasn't the solution. He needed to talk to Kyle and apologize. He needed to tell the boy that he disapproved the use of that spell. He needed to be a good King, and also a good father for his children. With that thought, he rose from his seat, straightened his coat, and walked out of his room. Before he went to look for his son though, he directed his steps to the room next to his own; the room in which the young Lord Steven was resting in.

When he opened the door, he was nonetheless shocked when he found out that the bed was unoccupied. A thousand scenarios ran through his mind, most of them ending with Steven dead. The fear he felt earlier gripped his heart again, icy cold and venomous. "Koga!" He called out as he slammed the door behind him, "Koga! Come here at once!"

Almost immediately, a figure clad in black drop down from the ceiling. "Perfect timing," he said, "I just got news that your young lord is in the Sanctuary at the moment, dealing with a very pissed off Sorengard."

"What?" Lance couldn't believe what he just heard. Lord Steven had wandered off to the Sanctuary? And he had encountered Sorengard? "By the Dragons!" he shouted as he raced down the hall towards the Sanctuary.

It seemed as if it took him forever just to get there, and once he arrived, he was quickly greeted by the sight of Steven and Sorengard standing by the Tree of Birth. Immediately, he stopped and stared. It was nonetheless a curious sight to witness, for Sorengard never looked so comfortable with a stranger before. It lowered its head submissively and let Steven stroked him, letting out a good-natured rumble that brought a smile to Steven's face. Lance had to blink twice.

"How…?" That word escaped his lips. How was it possible? Lance couldn't help but wonder. Sorengard is the self-proclaimed guardian of the Sanctuary, and had been one for the last three hundred years ever since it was born. Other than Clair, Lance, and his children, he had never seen Sorengard let anyone else stand in the Sanctuary, let alone touch him. Lance had tried introducing Sorengard to the his wife when they first got married, but Sorengard had snapped and roared at her, treating her like an intruder no matter how many methods Lance had tried to get them to get along.

Just then, Steven caught sight of him. The young lord stared at him for a moment, before he smiled. Lance didn't know what had gotten into him, but the sight of that smile was enough to make his chest flutter. All the fear and anger melted away, and there was only a light feeling in his chest that pulled him closer towards the young lord.

When he got close enough, Sorengard turned to him and began affectionately rumbling. Lance stroked its spiky snout, before saying, "Go. I need to talk with him." And just like that, Sorengard complied. As soon as Sorengard left, he turned his gaze to Steven, who was staring at him in awe.

"I've never seen anyone ordering around a dragon like that," Steven said, his eyes bright and wide with amazement, and at that moment, he looked so precious that Lance felt like touching that face and kissing those lips. His beauty was tempting him like sins, and Lance wasn't sure if he was winning the battle.

"You…" he hesitated, _are beautiful._ He was struck with a need that he had never felt before; the need to own, to possess, to claim this man before him as his own. He reached out for his face, wanting to touch that skin, to feel his warmth, to run his fingers along his jaw. However, he stopped himself short when he noticed that they were not alone there. Looking to his side, he noticed Keith and Kyle, who were both watching him with an unreadable expression on their faces. Only then did he remember what he sets out to do in the first place. "Keith, Kyle," he called them as he pulled back his hand.

The boys hesitated, but they came over anyway. When they got close enough, Kyle spoke, "Papa…" his voice was dispirited, "I… I'm sorry about earlier… It… It was an accident… I didn't mean to do it… I promise… I won't do it ever again… So…" he sniveled, "Don't hate me…"

The regret for scolding his child so heartlessly came crashing back. Out of the two, Kyle was the more sensitive; he shouldn't have been so harsh on him. He was only eight, and he had lost his mother only two years ago. The guilt pulled him to his knee, and he gently stroked Kyle's head, "I don't hate you, Kyle. I never will." Instinctively, he pulled Kyle into an embrace, and quickly, the boy hugged him back and cried. Kyle was so small, and yet he was so full of sincere emotions. In his arms, he was holding the epitome of innocence, and he wanted to do nothing more than to protect him. He glanced at Keith, and then he was struck with the realization as to why Keith dreamed of being a knight. The realization brought a smile to his face, he was proud of how Keith was turning out to be.

With Kyle still in his arms, he rose and said, "Come on, it's getting late. We should go back inside." Keith nodded obediently. He then turned his attention to Steven and said, "Lord Steven, please, join us for dinner."

There was no way Steven could refuse an invitation from the King.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dragon's Consort**

 **A/N: LEMON ALERT! LEMON ALERT! LEMON ALERT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!  
**

 **Oh, and thanks to those who read and reviewed. Don't expect to get a faster update next time though :P**

* * *

 **Steven**

Steven was neither blind nor oblivious. He was very well aware of the fact that he possessed a very attractive face. He had heard all the praises directed at him; beautiful, handsome, charming, adorable. All of their praises were flattering, though they meant nothing to him. He had seen all the looks as well; appreciative, appraising, hungry, dark, twisted, lustful. He wasn't troubled; he knew his face ignited their emotions; it did things with their mind to the point where they were no longer in control of themselves, in some of the worst cases. At times, it felt like a blessing, especially when he had his eyes set on someone he wanted. Most of the time, however, it felt like a curse.

 _Considering that he is the King of all Kings then I suppose it is a blessing,_ he told himself as he glanced at the man sitting at the head of the dining table. Steven had seen it back in the Sanctuary, the way the King had looked at him; admiration, appreciation, a hint of possessiveness, and lust. The King wanted him.

That discovery thrilled and scared him at the same time; thrilled because he had captured the attention of the King, scared because he didn't know what the King would do about it.

Would he call him to his room in the middle of the night? Would he ravish him senselessly? Would he play with him, only to toss him aside once he became tired?

Steven wasn't delusional. Even though it had occurred to him that this might be the beginning of a relationship between him and the King, he didn't entertain the thought for long. It was simply ridiculous. The King only wanted his body, nothing more. Besides, if the King did want him in that other way, Steven couldn't imagine how that would have ended. Him? A Consort to the most powerful man in the five United Realms? He would sooner travel across the sea and back again than accept that kind of responsibility.

When they were finished with dinner, the King escorted Steven to his study, and told him to wait in there while he tended to his children. The King's study was a large room stuffed with shelves of books, most of them were on the history of their region, while some discussed politics and geographical boundaries. There was a huge table and a chair located by the window across the door. Those were the only furniture he could see in the midst of all the shelves. Open books and papers were scattered over its large surface. Scrolls were rolled open and left hanging over the edge. The room was stuffy and messy, it didn't look like a room used daily by a King.

He entertained himself with scanning through the shelves, and then picking out a book on history to read. His mind wasn't entirely in it though.

"I apologize for making you wait," The King said as soon as he returned. He closed the door behind him, but then paused as he looked around the room. It was hard to figure out what he was thinking. "I'm sorry, this is not the best place to ask you to wait in, is it?" He apologized again after a while.

"No, it's perfectly fine," Steven replied as he closed the book he was pretending to read before the King's return.

"I have a mind to ask you to rest for the night, but something told me that you're not going to stay in there for long."

Steven smiled, "I've slept through the day, your Highness. I have rested enough."

The King nodded, "So you have..." he paused for a moment, before he continued, "Come and walk with me, Lord Steven."

Steven didn't refuse.

* * *

 **Lance**

Lance brought the young lord to the garden in which they first met. He really didn't know why there out of all the places, there were many other scenic gardens in the Palace of Dragons, but that location seemed to be the most appropriate at that moment. He finally came to a halt when they arrived at the exact location where they first met. There was a patch of green grass where he and Darkstar often lay down upon. Most nights, Darkstar would be waiting for him right there. However, tonight wasn't the case.

"Where is Darkstar?" Lord Steven asked, his voice hesitant, almost shy. Back before he knew that Lance was the King, he used to be much more confident with speaking out his mind.

"You need not worry," Lance told him. "Darkstar has other things to attend to, I am sure."

Steven looked at him, his bright blue eyes reflected his doubts and unsettled mind. "I see..."

 _What are you thinking?_ Lance wanted to ask, but the words wouldn't come out. The silence which came afterwards was expected, and Lance fought hard to think clearly on what he wanted to say to this man. "Lord Steven..." he began quietly, still unsure, "The Sanctuary is forbidden for those other than the royal blood. Please keep that in mind."

"I apologize," Steven replied, his tone a bit guilty. "I was lost."

"I do clearly remember asking you to stay in your room."

Steven paused before he said, "Once again, I apologize."

 _Sorengard could've killed you,_ Lance wanted to tell him, but he didn't feel like making Steven apologize again. The guilt in Steven's voice was genuine, and he felt bad for making the young lord felt so guilty. Even though the two incidents that day had scared the life out of him, he had to be thankful that nobody got hurt."Next time, do not commit the same mistake," was all that he finally said to the young lord.

"I understand."The guilt in his voice receded, but it was still there.

Lance wondered if he should say something to make him feel better, but he decided against it. Comforting other people wasn't what he does best. The way he dealt with his son earlier was enough to prove that.

He turned around to look at Steven. The young lord was standing close behind him, but his gaze was fixed onto the ground. There was a mix of expressions on his face that Lance couldn't quiet comprehend. He looked troubled, hesitant, unsure, and doubtful. Once again, Lance wondered what Steven was thinking.

 _Beautiful,_ the word rang through Lance's mind as he studied Steven's face. His hand and fingers itched to reach out and touch that smooth, pale skin.

* * *

 **Steven**

Steven didn't know what was going on. One moment the King was scolding him for disobeying his orders, and then the next moment, the King was touching his face. Steven didn't know how to react, so he stayed frozen, motionless, and dumbstruck. His mind was struggling to understand and accept the implementation of this simple touch.

 _He wants you,_ a voice in his mind echoed, sounding so distant and surreal. _And you want him too._ His self-restraint was hanging on a thin thread. _What are you waiting for?_ He was waiting for this dream to end. _This can't be real._

The King's thumb stroked his cheek, his touch was gentle. He was treating Steven as if Steven was fragile. His hand rested against his cheek, his palm was warm, rough, big, and Steven liked it that way. Steven wanted more, wanted that hand to push him down, grab his neck, and leave scars that he would feel for days. He shivered at that thought.

Suddenly, however, the King pulled away. Steven dared himself to look at him. The King was studying him, an unreadable look on his face. Why was he so hard to read? It would have been much easier for Steven if he knew for sure that the King wanted him as badly as he did. "I apologize," the King said after a moment of pause, "I didn't know what I was doing."

Steven looked down. _So he's not aware of what he's doing?_ The thought would have amused him if only he wasn't so confused on what he should do next. What was he supposed to do? What would be the right thing to say? "It's... It's fine," he muttered, "It doesn't bother me..." he honestly admitted. He was aware of how seductive he sounded, and he prayed to the Goddess and Dragons above that the King understood what he was implying.

A glance at the King told him that his prayers weren't heard. The King showed nothing on his face.

 _I can't possibly be less subtle than that,_ Steven internally commented. Just as he was about to give up hope, however, the King suddenly shortened the distance between them, and placed a hand on Steven's face again. Their gazes locked for a moment, and Steven shivered once again when he realized how wild and intense those gold eyes were.

The King stroked his cheek, and then his thumb moved to brushed against his lips. Steven slightly parted his lips and licked the tip of his finger, carefully, seductively, inviting him to do more than just touch his face. This game, he was familiar with.

The King then removed his thumb from Steven's mouth, and ever so slowly leaned in for a kiss. Steven, being too impatient already for the taste of those lips, met him halfway and immediately pulled him in for a deep kiss.

* * *

 **Lance**

The eagerness of the young lord snapped something inside of him. The moment he felt Steven's soft lips so passionately trying to find its way deeper, Lance immediately forgot about everything else. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing. He forgot why doing this was probably the worst decision he had ever made, he forgot to think about what the others would think, he forgot all about decencies. The only thing that mattered to him was Steven, and only Steven.

Lance felt it; his desires, his passion, his yearning to be touched, dominated, helplessly made to beg and scream for release. And Lance was eager to give Steven what he wanted.

He grabbed Steven by his shoulder and pushed him back against a sturdy pillar. He didn't give the young lord even time to breathe as he hungrily took those lips and mouth, and pressed his body against Steven as hard as possible. Steven let out a strangled moan, he wasn't resisting though, wasn't fighting back, and so Lance knew that he was right. They both wanted this.

Common sense was tugging at his sleeve, so annoying and persistent. _You're the King, you cannot do this. What would you tell them if they find out? What sort of impression would you leave on him? He's going to think you're seriously interested in him, and you know that's not true._

However, there was another side of him, the wilder, more selfish side that was arguing, and winning, against common sense. _It doesn't really matter, does it? Every King has at least one bed warmer, so why can't you have one? He's a perfect bed warmer; good-looking, eager, and brother of a minor lord too. There's nothing he can do to stop you from having with him._

He had never felt so selfish in his life, but he really wanted this; wanted the man to writhe and beg and scream beneath him. Wanted to see him come undone. Wanted to forget, just for one night, that he was the honorable and respected King of all Kings.

* * *

 **Steven**

A jolt of excitement shot through him when he felt the King pressing his erection against his own. The King was hard, turned on from just kissing, and it was all because of him. Steven knew he shouldn't expect any less, he was aware of how attractive he was, but to think that the King was reacting so strongly to him was pleasing him more than it should.

His mind didn't linger on their erections for too long, however, since he needed to focus on breathing. The King was greedily dominating his mouth, and Steven was getting dizzy for lack of air, but he didn't want to stop. the sheer ferociousness of the kiss was burning him from the inside , he had never felt this kind of ferocity before. He wanted more, more, _more_.

Steven grabbed the King hair to pulled him in deeper, and pressed his body closer. Their hard erections were grazing against each other. Steven let out a shameless moan as he moved his hands downward to unbuttoned the King's clothes, because they sure as hell was getting in the way. He wanted them gone, wanted to feel and touch and see the marvel hidden beneath those layers. It was hard to navigate his clumsy, shaking fingers with the King pressing against him so relentlessly, but when the King realized what Steven was doing, he relented a little.

The King moved his hand down as well, unclasping his cloak, which fell and pooled onto the ground. His hands then unbuttoned Steven's clothes. The King's hands were much faster and sturdier in completing the simple task, and Steven was nonetheless frustrated by his unsteady fingers.

The King managed to undressed him first, with a groan, he pulled the annoying piece of fabric off Steven, and tossed it aside without a care, before his hands touched him all over the place, roaming hungrily, greedily, as if he couldn't get enough. He pinched Steven's nipples, and elicited a lustful moan. And as if wanting to hear more, the King moved his lips down, and began sucking and biting his left nipples. Steven's knees buckled, it was a miracle that he was still standing at all.

"Please," Steven moaned as he grabbed the King's head and urged him to go harder, more merciless. By the dragons, he felt like he had lost his mind. "Don't stop..." he was begging already, even though they were only getting started. The heat he felt inside was too intense, he feared for his sanity if they stretched this foreplay for too long.

The King grabbed his neck, his hand was big and rough and exactly where Steven wanted it to be. Steven moaned, his whole body shivering with pleasure and need. The King kissed him again, his tongue immediately gaining entrance to Steven's mouth.

* * *

 **Lance**

Before he was even truly aware of what he was doing, Lance found himself stroking both of their cocks in his hand. He glanced at the face of his partner, and saw pure lust and ecstasy written all over Steven's face. He was groaning and moaning, shamelessly pushing into Lance's hand for more, and Lance was so unbearably turned on that he kept on increasing the pace of his stroke until he felt the fingers on his neck digging in so deeply that it could probably drew blood. Lance didn't care, all he wanted was _him_ , begging, writhing, screaming, and he would do anything to get it.

"Y-Your Highness," Steven whimpered as his whole body trembled with the need for release.

Lance frowned, not liking the way that title sounded so awkward given the situation. "Call my name," his own voice sounded unfamiliar to him.

Steven opened his eyes, looking at Lance as if unsure. Lance drove his point by increasing the pressure, and Steven immediately closed his eyes and cried out his name, "Lance!" His body went tense, he arched his back, and shudders of pleasure wrecked through him. He came with a loud cry that drove Lance right off the edge as well.

Streams of thick, white fluid landed messily on his hand, their bare torsos, and the ground. None of them cared though, for the shock of their intense orgasms still shook their cores.

Steven was trembling; his feet were barely able to support him. The only thing holding him up firmly was Lance. He was panting heavily for air, his pale skin flushed with heat. Sweat made his skin glistened under the moonlight. He looked so vulnerable, so fuckable, and Lance felt arousal hit him once again. He needed _more_.

"My room," Lance whispered by his ear, commanding, hungry, greedy."Now."

Steven, once again, didn't refuse.

* * *

They walked towards the King's room after they were decent enough. Lance gripped Steven's wrist in a bruising grip as he led the way, his mind focused solely on how he would ravish that young lord senseless. Steven didn't say anything, and Lance didn't dare look at him. He didn't want to find out that he was wrong, and that Steven actually didn't want any of this.

When he closed the door behind him, he immediately pulled the young lord towards his bed, and tossed him onto the bed. Without a moment to waste, he was on top of Steven again, kissing his lips and tossing aside his cloak, breathing in Steven's sharp scent that reminded him of pine trees. The young lord whimpered and squirmed, his moans unrestrained and wild.

The room was dark, the curtains were drawn shut. There was not enough light to let him see Steven's expression. The situation frustrated him, but the thought of separating just for a little while to light a candle or cast a light spell was too much. He didn't want to let go, didn't want to stop hearing Steven's moans and whimpers.

* * *

 **Steven**

He was simply incapable of any coherent thought at that moment. All he could do was closed his eyes and felt the way Lance made him burn with every kiss and touch. Their hot breaths were tangled, Lance's tongue dominating his mouth, licking and tasting, Lance's teeth biting his tongue and lips. His body was heavy on top of Steven, so big, strong, solid, and ho. Their hard cocks were rubbing against one another, slick and so sensitive, Lance's cock big and heavy next to his own. Steven wanted that cock inside of him, his hole had clenched up so many times in anticipation.

"Please... Put it inside," Steven begged again, and he swore he sounded as if he was about to cry. But he didn't care. He wanted that cock inside of him. He wanted to feel that man no matter what.

Lance growled as he pulled away, "Don't move," he ordered as he reached over to his bedside table, slid open the drawer, and pulled out something that looked like a vial in the darkness of that room. In a moment, he was on top of Steven again, his hands nudging his legs open.

Steven spread his legs open, and soon heard a soft popping sound, possibly from the vial. He gasped when he felt a cold, slimy liquid landed on his testicles, and flowed down to his hole. He shivered in delight as he felt Lance once again touching him down there, his fingers gently massaging the tight ring muscle. Lance kept on massaging as he returned once again to assault Steven's lips, and Steven had to wonder if Lance possessed some sort of oral fixation. He wasn't going to complain though, Lance was a damn good kisser and he was enjoying every moment of it.

"I'm sorry," Lance suddenly whispered by his ear, his voice trembling with unrestrained need. Just when Steven was about to ask what he meant, he felt the tip of Lance's cock nudging the entrance of his ass. "I can't hold it anymore. Can I put it in now?" Lance purred as he buried his face in the crook of Steven's neck.

"Oh yes..." Steven gasped, "Please, now."

As soon as he said those words, he felt the tip of Lance's cock slowly sliding in, stretching and filling him. He squirmed in discomfort, wounded his arms around Lance's neck, and pulled Lance into a deep kiss because he simply couldn't trust himself with holding in his scream.

When he felt that he had taken it all in, Steven let out a shaky breath, "Don't move just yet," he writhed out. Lance didn't reply, he just kept on kissing him, but he did as told and let Steven got used to his cock. Slowly, the painful ache dulled away, and Steven thrust his hips upward a little to let Lance know that he was ready.

Lance understood that sign, and pulled out slightly, before slowly sliding back in with a primal growl. "So tight," he grunted by Steven's ear.

"Lance," Steven moaned his name as he dug his fingers into Lance's back. By the dragons, they were only getting started and Lance had already found his sweet spot. Steven immediately knew that he wasn't going to last long.

Lance gradually increased the pace of his thrusts, and Steven's voice gradually became more erotic.

Hot, everything felt hot; from Lance's cock inside him, to Lance's body tightly pressed against his. It wasn't making him uncomfortable though, rather it was driving him more and more insane by each passing second. Every inch of his body felt pleasurable, even his own cock which he hadn't touched ever since they got into that room. He couldn't stop himself from shivering, trembling, moaning out Lance's name, and screaming it when it all became too much. When his climax hit him, it was the most intense he had ever felt. He arched his back off the bed, and dug his fingers deep into Lance's back. His whole body went tense as shudders wrecked through him. His mind went blank, all there was to him was the unrivaled sensation of pleasure coursing through his veins, shooting through his body, and burning him from the inside out.

When it subsided, Steven closed his eyes and fell limp onto the bed, breathing heavily as he tried to return to the present. His body was still shuddering with pleasure, but he realized that Lance had stopped thrusting into him.

The room was silent save for the sound of his labored breathing, but then Lance finally broke the silence, "Beautiful…" he purred, sounding pleased by what he had seen.

Praise was on the tip of Steven's tongue as well, but it was lost before he managed to get it out. His mind was still fuzzy, and his head was still spinning with the pleasure he just felt. He didn't say anything as he continued trying to regain his senses.

Suddenly, however, Lance began to move again inside of him. Steven let out a strangled gasped as Lance's cock grazed over the over-sensitized sweet spot inside. Steven quickly placed both his hands on Lance's shoulders and attempted to push him away, "I can't…" he whimpered. "I can't. Please."

"Yes, you can," Lance murmured by his ear.

"No…" Steven gasped as Lance began to pick his pace. "Please…"

Lance wrapped his arms around Steven's neck and kissed Steven on his lips, "Just a little more," he breathlessly whispered, "A little bit more."

Steven ignorantly believed in him.

Lance picked up his pace, and Steven was lost in the pleasure once again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Dragon's Consort**

 **A/N: I know I haven't even finish this fic yet, but I have this urge to start another one.  
**

* * *

 **Lance**

It was raining outside.

That was the first thing Lance noticed when he regained his senses. It hadn't rain for some time in Blackthorn, so it surprised him a little that it was raining so heavily. The Sea Dragons were probably in a rather good mood. For a moment, he was worried that the Fire Dragons might be annoyed by this and that they might plan on scorching his Kingdoms tomorrow with merciless heat. But then he remembered that he was the Dragonlord, and that he was more than capable of ordering those Dragons around as he pleased. I'm getting worried over nothing, Lance thought as he rolled over. His hand landed on the other side of the bed; the side which his wife used to occupy, the side which had been cold for the past two years, but felt miraculously warm that morning. Just then, he remembered who was supposed to be there.

He sat up with a jolt, "Damn..." he muttered as he realized that Steven, once again, wasn't where he was supposed to be. Holy Rhea, where is he this time?

He was about to get off his bed and put on some clothes when he noticed that Steven was standing by the window across the bed, looking out at the gloomy sky and the pouring rain. Relief immediately washed through him as he realized that Steven was safe and whole.

Steven suddenly tore his gaze away from the sky outside and looked at Lance with a smile on his face, "Good morning."

Just like the time when they first met, and the time he found Steven with Sorengard in the Sanctuary, Steven looked so captivating at that moment, bare naked by the window, with only a thin, white sheet covering his lower part. Lance drank in the sight of his pale skin, the contour of his shoulders, and the shape of his firm ass covered by the white sheet. There were red marks around his neck, the marks that he had left last night in the heat of the moment. They stood out in contrast to his pale skin, a proof which showed that what they had last night was as real as it was terrifying. At that moment, Steven looked so flawless, so beautiful, as if the Goddess had carved and molded him with her own hands.

"Good morning," Lance managed to reply.

Steven's smile turned mischievous as he asked, "Are you pleased by what you are seeing?" Lance quickly looked away, somehow embarrassed for staring so openly. He heard Steven chuckled in amusement, before silence fell between them. It wasn't awkward though, the sound of rain against the window and the cool air made the atmosphere felt quite serene.

Lance laid back down on the bed. Since it was raining, he was in no hurry to start his day. Usually he would drag himself out of bed to train, but there was no way he was going to train under this weather. There were also duties that he must perform as a King, but then the Councilors were able to take care of them just fine, so there really was no reason for him to get out of bed. He thought about getting some more sleep, but it was obviously impossible since his mind kept on returning to the man standing there by the window.

Lance sat up again and decided to ask, "How are you feeling?" It was a good question, especially remembering that his son had assaulted Steven just yesterday morning. Also, he admitted that he had treated Steven quite roughly last night.

Steven looked slightly surprised that Lance had asked, but he quickly regained his composure and replied, "I feel wonderful." he then walked over the bed and sat down next to Lance. "Last night," Steven said, his eyes reflecting his pleasant mood, "Was the best sex I've ever had in my life. You are truly amazing."

It was the first time someone complimented him in that way, so Lance really didn't know how to reply. He felt a blush creeping up his face though, and he had to look away from Steven because the urge to hug Steven came out of nowhere all of a sudden. "Thank you," he finally decided to say.

Steven chuckled, "My pleasure." Steven then got off the bed and began picking up his scattered clothes. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm pretty hungry. A good night always work up my appetite."

"I can order the maids to bring breakfast here," Lance quickly suggested, even though he didn't know why.

Steven looked at him, the look on his face unreadable. "I am fine with that, but are you sure you want me to stay?"

That question sounded ridiculous at first, but then when Lance gave it a second thought, it did kind of make sense. After all, he was the King, if words got out that he had slept with Steven, then there might be some unwanted consequences. It was best to keep quiet about last night and pretend that nothing ever happened, but Lance wasn't sure that he wanted that. Still, what did he want from Steven anyway? Did he want this to be a one-time thing? Or did he want this to continue for an indefinite amount of time?

Lance knew that there was something between them; a spark that awakened the other side of him he thought was long dead, an irresistible attraction that made Lance want to touch and dominate. This something between them felt so raw and primal, untamed and irrational, and Lance wasn't sure if pursuing it was the right course of action. He was, after all, meant to look for a Consort, not a bed slave.

Steven put on his clothes as Lance continued to think. When he was done securing the clasp of his cloak, he turned to Lance and said, "I'll take your silence as a 'no'."

Lance quickly looked at him, "It's not -"

"It's fine," Steven cut him off with a smile. "You don't have to worry about me. You're the King, I understand what kind of position you're in." He stood before Lance and leaned over, "I'm very good at keeping secrets too, you know. I promise, whatever happened between us last night, stays between us."

 _Will there be a next time?_ He wanted to ask, but the words wouldn't come out. Common sense was holding him back, telling him that asking would only complicate the situation. _It is best to let it end like this._

"Goodbye," Steven whispered by his ear, before he kissed Lance on his cheek and then pulled away. He flashed Lance a smile for one last time, before he turned around and left the room.

Lance collapsed onto his bed with a sigh, feeling as if he had let go of something truly important.

* * *

 **Steven**

The rain continued until the late afternoon. Steven sat down by the window of his room, enjoying the sight of rain falling upon the roofs of Blackthorn's buildings and houses. The sound of the droplets hitting the ground, the cool air, and the sight of a lonely city made him feel contented. It never rained in Rustboro, only snow, and snow never made such a beautiful sound as they fell from the sky. Snow was too quiet to his liking. And too cold as well.

"Lord Steven," his valet knocked on his door.

"Come in," Steven absently said, not taking his eyes off the view outside.

His valet entered the room, and brought with him a rack of clothing that quickly told Steven that he wasn't going to be alone for the rest of the afternoon.

"Lady Alice wants to have you for tea. I believe it is a good time to prepare yourself." His valet said as he closed the door behind.

"Lady Alice?"

His valet gave him a curious look, "Yes, the lovely lady who oversees the training and tutoring of the candidates for the Court."

Ah, that shrill-voiced woman, "Of course. My apologies. I am incapable of thinking clearly at the moment."

"Yes, I heard what happened to you the other day, and I believe that it's quite unfortunate. However, it turned out for the best, did it not? You were able to personally speak with the King, do you not?"

 _You have no idea_. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"How did the King treated you?"

 _Just as I've always dreamed,_ "He treated me well and apologized on behalf of his son. That was all."

"Ah, patience is the key to success in Court, Lord Steven. You may not have gotten far, but at least he knows your name. That is as a good start as any. Your cohorts would do anything to be in your position at this moment."

Considering that the King just fucked me, then I suppose so.

"Alright, enough chit-chat, let's get working." His valet walked over and helped him undress even though there was no need to. Steven didn't complain though, he had learned during his first day in Blackthorn that arguing with that man was near to impossible. However, as soon as he unbuttoned Steven's shirt, his hands froze and his eyes quickly widened. "Lord Steven..."

Steven then realized what his valet had seen to make him react like that. The marks the King had left on him last night. He wrecked his brain to make up a story that didn't involve the King but could explain the marks, and immediately he said, "It was one of the wyvern riders." He immediately cursed his brain for malfunctioning at the very wrong moment.

"I see," his valet finally regained his composure, the look on his face grim though a hint of shock was still there. He proceeded to help Steven undress, before helping him put on his shirt, waistcoat, breeches and shoes. Steven noticed that his valet hadn't mention the corset, which was perhaps done out of concern for his condition after the assault the other day. But something still didn't feel right, and when he looked at his valet in the eyes, he quickly realized what was wrong.

 _He knows._

"It is time," his valet finally said. "Let us go."

So much for keeping it a secret.

* * *

 **Lance**

So much for keeping it a secret, Lance bitterly thought as he watched his Councilors arguing with one another, trying to figure out the best course of action now that they know that a young Lord had captured his attention. _I should fire Koga_. It had slipped from his mind that there was nothing that escaped Koga's sharp eyes and keen ears. If he only he had remembered, he could have asked the Spymaster to keep quiet and never mentioned it to the Councilors. But Lance had forgotten and Koga had reported his finding to the Councilors, and now Lance was in deep trouble.

"I do not see why we can't let Lord Steven spend more time with the King," Agatha spoke up. "If the King truly likes him, then all's fine and good, isn't it? After all, it's the King's happiness that matters."

"A young Lord who dare seduced the King is no respectable Lord," Birch argued. "We can not let him be the next Consort to the King!"

"It is not for you to decide! If the King wants him, you have no right to say 'no'!"

"Councilors, Lord Steven managed to seduce the King in less than a week since his arrival. Do you not think that something is amiss? Has it not cross your mind that he might be using tricks to seduce our King?"

"He could be using dark magic!"

"Forbidden magic!"

"He could be an incubus!"

"That's outrageous! An incubus seducing our King?"

"We can not let this happen! We need to punish that lecherous devil immediately!"

As they continue arguing, Lance was lost in his own thoughts. _An incubus?_ The idea never really crossed his mind, after all, he had never met an incubus before in his life. Sure he had heard of them once or twice; about how they seduce men and women alike, and feed on the energy given off when a man or a woman reached the apex of his or her pleasure. He also heard that they were supposed to be more beautiful than humans in average, with charms that can tempt even saints and priests. Due to their lecherous nature though, some cities enacted a law that forbade incubus to work in anywhere but the brothels. _Well, he is truly beautiful. And he was great in bed too._ If Steven really was an incubus, that would explain Lance's irrational attraction and desire. The theory sounded plausible, but Lance wasn't going to jump to conclusions.

"Councilor Birch, I think you need to calm down," Agatha snapped at him, "We do not know if he really is an incubus, it is only a theory."

"But I've seen the young Lord myself, Agatha," Lorelei said, "And my eyes do not deceive me, he is a very beautiful man. I have asked Koga to go to Rustboro and dig deeper into his background. I believe he would return with the truth in a week or so."

"We don't have a week," Samuel Oak argued, "If he can seduce the King in less than a week, just imagine what he's capable of doing in a week's time."

"We can make sure he stay away from the King, Koga's men can keep an eye on him."

Wait, there's also that other thing... Lance frowned as he tried to remember one more thing he had heard about incubus. If you have sex with an incubus for too many times, then you can... Lance couldn't remember what was the consequence though. What was it again? It had been a long time since he first heard of it. What could happen? He thought about asking his Councilors, but seeing that they were busy arguing on how to keep Steven away from him, Lance quickly dropped the intention.

He had never felt the need to intervene when his Councilors were arguing, even if they were arguing over very important matters, because in the end, the final decision was all up to him. He had made his decision long before he had entered the room. He had thought it through all morning, and finally had came upon a decision he should have considered right from the beginning.

"What do you think of our plan, Your Majesty?" Councilor Oak finally asked.

Lance looked at him and said, "I wish to know Lord Steven better."

* * *

 **Steven**

The news spread faster than expected. It was amazing how quickly information was circulated among his cohorts, though he really shouldn't be surprised. This was, after all, the Court, and the King was up for grabs this year, so of course everyone was on full alert.

When they heard that the King had requested to get to know Steven, some of the young lords and ladies congratulated him, some sincere, others simply out of obligation. There were those who were less pleased by the revelation, and bitterly claimed that the King must have done it out of guilt, since it was the young prince who had harmed Steven in the first place after all. Those people didn't believe that the King was really interested in Steven, and, frankly speaking, Steven didn't believe it either.

The King requested Lady Alice to let him spend time with Steven, meaning that he wanted to get to know Steven better, meaning he was interested in taking Steven as his next Consort. The idea should have thrilled him, but instead he was faced with a numbing dread. He didn't want to get to know the King better, he didn't want to be the next Consort. All he had wanted was just to have sex with a man he thought was very handsome and attractive, but apparently he got more than what he had bargained for. The King was interested in him, and apparently the idea of turning him down was as horrible as signing his own death warrant, or so Lady Alice had impressed upon him. _I should have known, I should have seen this coming_ , Steven miserably thought as he ate what felt like a bland dinner.

This wasn't the first time a man of power wanted to seriously woo him after a night of passionate sex. It had happened to him in the past, but Steven always found ways to graciously turn down their advances. There was that one time when he had to escape from a tower just to get out of the grasps of the possessive maniac who wanted Steven so bad that he locked Steven up in a tower. He immediately fled the city as soon as he touched the safe, solid ground. Steven wondered if he had to do the same thing now with the King, though he might need to escape from the five United Realms afterwards.

 _No, no... I need to find a way to make him hate me somehow_. Steven didn't have that many vices which could put off a potential suitor other than his inclination to sleep with just about anyone as long as he was attractive. He had no deep, dark secret either. He was simply what he looked like to be; a brother of a minor lord who liked to travel and behold the great sights of the world, and sleep with attractive men once in a while. _This is troublesome, maybe I should just tell him that I'm not interested?_ That was probably the best alternative he had at that moment.

"Lord Steven," his valet's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "You have a long day tomorrow, so I suggest you turn in early for the day."

Steven looked at him and nodded.

 _Yes, tomorrow is going to be a long day._


	7. Chapter 7

**Dragon's Consort**

 **A/N: EYEPATCH DRAGON JESUS IS HERE!**

 **For those who don't play Fire Emblem, you might not know him, but for those who DO... Well, give a round of applause for EYEPATCH DRAGON JESUS!**

* * *

 **Steven**

The next day came too quickly. Before the sun was even up, his valet had come knocking on his door, and rushed in to get him prepared for the day. He forced Steven to take a long, hot, scented bath, instructing him to scrub in all the right places, before fussing over what he should wear and what color was to the King's liking. Steven, who didn't manage to get a good night sleep, followed his orders in a half-asleep state, yawning every now and then.

"The King is fond of simplicity and the color red. But red doesn't suit you, my Lord," that man murmured as he studied Steven with a serious expression, as if he was a confusing puzzle to solve. "Not, not black either. Aquamarine would be nice, but the King does not like bright colors. You can see that from the way he dresses every day. Black and black throughout. No, no, no, definitely not black for you."

Steven was still sleepy and his valet was speaking nonsense, but somehow he managed to smile and nod at the right moments. In the end, his valet decided on a white shirt, simple blue waistcoat, navy blue coat, black breeches, and black shoes. "That'll have to do, I suppose," his valet murmured as he secured a bright blue scarf around Steven's neck.

Steven didn't need to look into the mirror to know that his valet had done an impressive job, Steven had learned that on his first day in Blackthorn. "What does the King plan on doing with me?" he couldn't help but ask as his valet combed through his hair.

"I do not know, he didn't give out any specific orders to anyone. He did instructed someone to bring you over to his hall for breakfast, but other than that, nobody knows for sure."

Steven was sure he could handle breakfast, and he was praying that breakfast was all that the King had in mind for that day as he was escorted to the royal dining hall.

"Steven," Keith and Kyle both gasped in unison, one greeted him with a smile, while the other with a disapproving frown. "Good morning." They were saying the exact same words in the exact same time; adorable, but slightly unusual.

Sitting in between them in that dining hall was their father, the King, who had been staring intensely at Steven ever since he walked into the hall. Lance stood up to greet him, "Good morning, Lord Steven." Neither his voice nor his eyes betrayed a single emotion, he was so hard to read, and Steven was nonetheless bothered.

"Good morning as well, Your Highness, Prince Keith and Prince Kyle," he returned the formal greeting with a good-nature smile. "Thank you for having me for breakfast, it's an honor to be here with all of you." he took a seat across the King and offered him a smile.

"It's nothing," Lance replied, his gaze firmly fixed on Steven. "Thank you for joining us."

Even though Steven had had dinner with them just a couple of nights ago, it felt different this time around. Maybe it was the children, who somehow were much more talkative compared to the last time Steven sat down with them. Or maybe it was the fact that the King was trying to woo him that made him feel slightly uneasy. Whatever it was, he was somewhat glad that he managed to go through it without a hitch, though he wasn't even supposed to be surprised. It was, after all, just breakfast.

When they finished with breakfast and after the children had gone off to start their daily routine of endless tutoring and training, Lance looked at Steven and said, "I have a mind to take you for a ride today. I am sure you have nothing against that idea, yes?"

Steven's heart raced with excitement at the thought of riding a wyvern again. "Of course not," he couldn't keep the enthusiasm out of his voice. He remembered the ride they had on the first night Steven was in Blackthorn. It had been quite late into the night, but Blackthorn proved to be as wondrous as the rumors had claimed. He couldn't help but wonder if Blackthorn seen from the skies during the day would look any better. He was aware of the need to quickly inform Lance that he wasn't interested in being suited, but he concluded that it can wait until after the ride.

* * *

 **Lance**

Lance was nervous. As a King, he had never been nervous before, unless he counted that time when he was getting married to his wife, but that was an exception, everybody in his position would get nervous. He had been young and experienced, still overwhelmed by Clair's death, and was getting married to a woman he hadn't known that well. His nervousness at that time had stemmed from grief, uncertainty, and doubt on whether or not he was making the right choice. This time, however, as he walked down the hallways with the young lord by his side, he was having a hard time figuring out why he was nervous.

Perhaps the fact that they had slept with one another was one of the reasons. Even though they had parted on a somewhat good terms that morning, Lance was nonetheless ashamed that he had acted so out of control. He should've tried to get to know the lord better before bringing him to bed, and not the other way around. He pondered on the question of whether or not he should apologize. _For Rhea's sake, of course I have to apologize._ Even though Steven had done his fair share of flirting, in the end, it was him who had lost his control first.

Glancing to his side, he saw the young lord walking with a smile on his face, all radiant and simply beautiful. If he was bothered with the situation between them, he was doing a good job not showing it. Steven noticed him staring, and quickly, his pale skin adopted a slight pink color. "Is there something wrong, Your Highness?" He asked.

 _So he is thinking about it too,_ Lance thought. "Please, call me Lance." The knowledge that Steven wasn't the only one bothered comforted him a little, but he was still nervous nonetheless. "I know that this might be a little too late, but I do believe I owe you an apology."

"For what?"

 _You know what._ Lance hesitated, wondering how he should answer that question. "For... Ah, being so hasty... And..." he felt the heat rising up to his face. _By the Dragons, please get it._

Thankfully, Steven did. "Oh, that..." he sounded slightly embarrassed, but not as uncomfortable as Lance. "You don't have to apologize. I was the one who seduced you," Steven said.

"No, I should have been able to control myself much better than that," Lance insisted.

Steven paused, and then said, "Either way, there's nothing to apologize for, truly. Besides, we both wanted it, am I right?"

"Yes, you are right," Lance had no choice but to agree. There was no denying that he had wanted it.

"Then, that is it," Steven smiled at him. "Do not fret too much over it, Your Highness, wait, I mean, Lance. I promise that I'm not going to cause you any trouble."

Lance then realized that both of them were worried about troubling the other. It felt funny that Steven was worried about causing trouble for him, when it was him who should be more worried about causing trouble for Steven. Steven was the one at a risky position after all. In the shadows, assassins were sharpening their blades, all ready to cut him down at the order of whoever was willing to pay enough money just to make sure Steven didn't get any closer to the King. It had happened before when he was choosing his first Consort, and even though the security had been doubled this time, Lance was worried that it might happen again.

He cut off his train of thoughts when they arrived at the courtyard. In the vast field covered with green grass and decorated with dragon statues, a wyvern was sitting down and gazing into a pond. "Leviar," Lance called out her name, and immediately, she responded by bounding towards him and Steven.

"Leviar," he heard Steven trying that name, his voice hinted his awe at the sight of the female wyvern.

"She's a forest wyvern," Lance informed him as Leviar crouched before them, head lowered and chest rumbling in hopes of gaining Lance's affectionate touch.

"Forest wyvern?" Steven asked, slightly confused. Of course he wouldn't know the difference, after all, most wyverns can only be found in Blackthorn. And forest wyverns were particularly shy creatures.

Lance reached out to stroke Leviar, "Yes, forest wyverns are different from fire wyverns, as you can see from their hides. Whereas fire wyverns have tough exterior that can withstand overwhelming heat, forest wyverns have softer hide. They are also generally smaller. However, compared to fire wyverns, they are faster and more agile. They are much gentler and calmer in nature as well. Our patrol officers make use of their help every day." As soon as he was done talking, he looked at Steven, and found that the young lord was staring at him with lips parted open and eyes wide with confusion. Lance was sure his explanation was simple enough, so he asked, "Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry," Steven quickly snapped out of it. "It's just... I... You've never talked much before, so it is quite surprising to hear you talk that much," Steven smiled at him and said, "People do get talkative about the things they're passionate about, don't they?"

Lance didn't know what to make of that. So he settled with a simple, "I apologize."

"What?" Steven shook his head, "No, no, you're not suppose to apologize. There's nothing wrong with that. And I'm not bothered. In fact," he smiled shyly as he said, "I like it better when you talk."

For some reason, Lance was happy to hear that coming from him. "Thank you," was all he could muster at that moment. Leviar suddenly let out a low rumble, and Lance remembered what he had planned for the day. He nodded at Leviar, before he turned to Steven and said, "Let us be off."

* * *

 **Steven**

Steven watched as the wyvern lowered its back for Lance to climb onto, before the Dragonlord extended a hand towards Steven and said, "May I?"

He didn't need to ask. Steven took his hand, and Lance pulled him up. As soon as Steven had straddled Leviar's back safely, the King placed one hand very close to Steven's thigh and said by his ear, "Ready?"

Steven nodded, "Of course."

"Leviar, let's go."

As soon as the command escaped his lips, the forest wyvern spread out its fore limbs, and took off to the sky with a mighty flap of its wings. The take off was rough, and Steven was thrown back by the force of it, however the King steadied him by wounding one arm around Steven's waist, and immediately, Steven felt save. Cold wind blew against his face, and the sun's bright ray blinded him as Leviar flew towards it. When the wind settled and the sun was not directly shining on his face, Steven open his eyes, and once again marvel at the sight of Blackthorn spread out below him.

He could see almost everything from up there, from the brown tiled roofs of the many houses near the outskirt of the city, to the peculiar star-shaped city's square. The people were but mere specks from up there, moving through alleys and roads, up and down the stairs, crowding the marketplace and the city's square. Moving his gaze to the Palace, he noticed that it wasn't as brilliant as it was during the night, but that didn't change the fact that it still looked enormous and magnificent.

"Ah," Steven couldn't hold back a gasp when he noticed that they weren't alone on the clear blue sky. Looking around him, be could see several other wyverns on the sky. Some of them with riders, others without. On a much closer look, he noticed the presence of dragons as well. They were flying much further away though, nearer to the palace than Leviar was. "Dragons," Steven muttered in awe.

"I'm afraid we can't take a closer look," Lance spoke by his ear. "Wyverns don't like getting close to dragons."

Steven quickly turned to look at Lance, "Why not?"

"I can not say for certain, but I do believe that the wyverns are respecting the dragons' boundaries. Dragons are isolated creatures after all, they don't like unwanted companions."

"I didn't know that," Steven murmured as he gaze back at the dragons flying over the Palace; their bodies curling, tails swishing, wings outstretched. A familiar sense of reverence washed over him as he gaze at those dragons. It made him understand why they were so respected and worshipped. "They are wondrous beings, aren't they?"

Leviar circled Blackthorn for several more times, before she turned and flew straight for the Ilex forest due west. The scenery below rapidly changes; from houses to farms, and then an open green field as far as the eyes can see. Slowly but surely they approached Ilex forest, which looked green and lush even from the distance. Steven had been to that forest once, several years ago when he was travelling due south from Rustboro. He remembered that it was a beautiful place, so pure and serene, teeming with countless of lifeforms. It had taken him months to get to Ilex from Rustboro, it amazes him that it had taken him less time than that to reach that forest once more.

Leviar flew lower, until she was flying lower than the canopies, straight towards the closely packed trees. Uh-oh, Steven mentally cringed, don't tell me... Before Steven could open his mouth to throw any question, the King wounded his arms around Steven tighter and pressed his chest to Steven's back, forcing Steven to lean forward, "I am here," Lance whispered by his ear.

Steven swallowed nervously before he nodded, and then Leviar twisted her body as she flew between the trees. Steven let out a surprised cry, unprepared for such sudden movement. His fingers were digging into Leviar's back as the wyvern kept on twisting and turning trough the trees; up and down, left and right, over and under and around. Every single time Leviar was faced with a tree, Steven thought that she was going to fly straight into it, but instead she lithely avoided it even though barely. The flight was nerve-wracking. Steven had lost count on how many times Leviar had turned upside down, effectively rendering him dizzy and sick, and each time she did that was no better than the last. The only thing that kept him from screaming at the top of his lungs were the arm wrapped around his waist, the hand placed near his thigh, and the King's back pressed solidly against him. Holy Rhea, Steven inwardly groaned as he closed his eyes, feeling more and more sick by the passing moment.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it any longer, Leviar suddenly slowed down, and steadily descended onto the ground. Steven dared to open his eyes, and saw that Leviar had landed on the side of a vast lake. He would like to appreciate the view, truly, but he was feeling too sick at that moment to even think straight.

"Are you alright?" The king asked as he pulled away from Steven and jumped off the wyvern, looking as if he was perfectly fine. He offered his hand, which Steven took as he groggily unmounted Leviar.

Steven found that the experience still overwhelmed him, and that he was unsteady on his feet. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he somehow stumbled forward, and landed against the King. Steven let out a helpless groan, hating the way his vision still rocked and swayed.

"That was not a wise idea on my part," Lance murmured apologetically as he held Steven upright. "Apologies."

"Just need a minute," Steven moaned.

"Can you walk?" Lance asked and Steven managed a weak nod in reply.

* * *

 **Lance**

Lance led him towards the nearest tree, and let Steven sit down against it. The young lord didn't look so well, and Lance felt rather guilty for bringing him out for such a dangerous ride. Councilor Lorelei did suggest something much less dangerous, horse riding or simply walking around the palace, she had said, but horses hated Lance for some odd reason, and Lance didn't feel like talking with Steven in the palace, too many ears and eyes, he believed.

Lance sat down cross-legged before Steven, watching and hoping that he might get better with a little rest. Fortunately Steven did get better, and when he was good enough to speak, he said, "That was horrible."

"I'm sorry," Lance apologized. "I did not think that you would..." No, he should have known. After all, he had had the same reaction when he first rode a forest wyverns through the trees. "I'm sorry. I did not think this through."

"It's alright," Steven said. "I was just... Unprepared. I've never experienced anything like it before," his eyes observed Lance for a moment, before he chuckled, and asked, "And I suppose you're used to that kind of ride?"

Lance couldn't hold back a small smile, "Yes, I am. I've been riding since I was very young, but I did experienced what you're going through when I first rode a forest wyvern."

"Hard to imagine," Steven chuckled. His eyes then drifted towards the lake behind Lance, and a small smile graced his face, "This is a beautiful place."

Lance didn't need to look to agree. He had found this place when he was young, and it had become his private sanctuary ever since. There was nothing there aside from the vast blue lake, and the trees that surrounded them. No councilors, no financial advisors, no court politics, simply nothing to bother him. "Yes, it is."

Steven sat a little bit straighter as he looked at Lance again and asked, "Why did you bring me here?"

He was so straightforward that Lance was caught off-guard. He quickly regained himself though, for he knew that Steven was going to ask sooner or later. "I..." he hesitated for a moment as he gathered the words. "I would like to get to know you better, to be honest. And I believe that this is the best place where we can... talk."

Steven smiled, before be replied, "This is a nice place to talk, but... Get to know me better? Your Highness, you flatter me, but I do not think that I will make a good Consort for a King such as yourself."

"Why not?" He asked, trying not to let his disappointment show.

"Well, there are so many reasons," Steven started, "I do not understand politics, I do not know how to manage a Kingdom, and I most certainly do not know how to behave appropriately. Moreover..." Steven paused, "As you may already know, I have a tendency to sleep with just about anyone as long as they're attractive. Simply put, I do not have a good reputation."

"It does not bother me," Lance honestly replied. "You are not required to perform my duties, so it is fine if your knowledge in those areas are minimal. And your reputation does not matter as well. If you really are the one for me, then no one have the right to deny me of you."

Steven looked somewhat surprised, but he quickly regained himself and continued, "Not to mention, I have no plan to settle down at the moment."

Lance was confused, "If so, why are you in Blackthorn? Is it not for the sake of looking for a consort?"

Steven smiled, "No... I've always wanted to visit Blackthorn, and the invitation came at the right time. It's also a good chance for me to learn a little about the Court, so I immediately took the chance."

Lance felt a sinking feeling in his gut, "So... You're not looking for a Consort?"

Steven shook his head, "No."

"Oh, I see," he murmured as he looked away, unprepared for this turn of event. How should he proceed? What else was he supposed to say?

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Steven said.

"There's no reason for you to be sorry," Lance dared himself to look at Steven in the eyes. No, he wasn't going to let his disappointment show. He was turned down almost immediately, before he even got a chance to do anything, but perhaps it was for the best. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. Maybe their relationship was best left as it was; a dirty, little secret. "I am glad you are honest with me."

"It's one of my charms," Steven said with a smile. He then stood up and deeply inhaled, "I feel better now."

Lance stood as well, "I'm glad you are." Lance thought about what he should do next. He had planned on spending the rest of the morning talking with Steven and getting to know him, but now that Steven had rejected him, Lance wasn't sure if talking was still an option. Their best option at that moment was to return to the palace.

As he was about to suggest that idea, loud rustling could be heard from the trees right behind them. Steven turned to look, curiosity written all over his face. The rustling grew louder and louder, and before neither can say anything, forest wyverns burst out of the trees, speeding across the lake, before making a turn at the other side, and then moving towards them. They slowed down as they came near, and finally landed right in front of Lance. There were five of them, and each eagerly shoved their snouts near Lance's face to gain his affection and attention. Lance couldn't hold back a smile. He reached out to stroke one of them, and that forest wyvern growled with pleasure. It had been quite some time since he last came to that place, so it wasn't really a surprise that they missed him that much.

"Wow," Steven murmured in awe. One of the forest wyvern curiously sniffed him, and Steven nervously reached out to touch it's snout. The wyverns weren't hissing at this newcomer, so Lance took it as a sign that they didn't mind Steven's presence.

 _Come to think of it, Sorengard didn't act hostile towards him either,_ Lance suddenly remembered. Clearly there was more to the young Lord that met the eyes. _Perhaps he's of the Dragon's blood as well?_ That was not unlikely, since many of the First Dragonlord descendants who did not get to become Dragonlords decided to lead a more secluded life in many different places all around the continent. If that was the case, then they were more or less related in blood, though possibly very distant. _But I do not feel magic in him._ If he was a descendant of the First Dragonlord, he should have been able to control magic to a certain extent.

A low growl jarred him from his thoughts, and Lance tore his gaze from Steven to look at the forest wyverns. They were done greeting him and were ready to leave. Lance gave them his nod of approval, before they took off once again into the trees. Steven watched with widened eyes, his face showed nothing less than amazement at the sight of those wyverns disappearing into the sea of trunks and leaves.

Steven then turned to look at him and said, "Being a Dragonlord is amazing, isn't it?"

"Why?" Lance asked, because he really didn't know what was so amazing about being a Dragonlord if it came with a price of his freedom.

"Because you can get close to those wyverns and dragons without fearing for your own life." He innocently replied.

That ability had not come with the title, Lance wanted to tell him. But then he would need to explain what had come with the title and what had not, and how the dragon blood in his veins played a role as well. It was going to be a long explanation, one Lance wasn't sure where to start from. "It does not work that way," Lance hesitated with his words. "This ability to be accepted by them... It comes with practice."

Steven curiously gazed at him, "What kind of practice?"

Lance really didn't know where to start. "Well... to start off, you have to study them carefully. Observe their behaviors, make sense of their body languages, learn how to read their moods... it takes time, a lot of time, but once you understand them... you'll find that they're less complex than you originally thought." He paused, then added, "Being a Dragonlord... It does not make it any easier. That title does not grant blessings or powers that many of you would like to believe... that title..." he let his voice trailed off, unwilling to reveal to Steven that the title only brought about a burden that he never wished to bear in the first place. He shook his head and said, "There is nothing special about it."

Steven was silent for a moment, but then he finally nodded and murmured, "I see..." there was a hint of understanding in his voice that made Lance felt as if he had heard the words left unspoken. But that was impossible, nobody could understand the responsibility he carried along with the title save for all the Dragonlords before him.

Silence fell over them, but it was contemplative rather than awkward.

"Ever since I was a boy, I've always wondered what riding a wyvern feels like," Steven suddenly broke the silence. "There are a lot of ice wyverns in Rustboro, but they are unfriendly at their best." He paused for a while, then continued, "It feels like a dream come true, to be able to touch them and even ride them. Thank you, Lance."

Steven's smile was warm and sincere and for some reason Lance felt happiness bubbled up in him. He had to look away to stop himself from blushing, "It's nothing..." Lance muttered as he folded his arms.

Steven chuckled, "You're cute when you're embarrassed."

Lance groan inwardly as he felt the heat rose up to his head and elicited a mirthful laugh from the young lord.

* * *

 **Steven**

Steven was surprised that he had managed to turn down the King in such a short time. He hadn't even given the King a chance to try, and that made him feel bad. He should have given the King a chance, but impulsivity was one of his vices. He had told himself, on several occasions where his impulsivity had led to unwanted outcomes, to start thinking twice before saying anything, but it proved to be easier said than done.

"Well, shall we head back to the palace now?" Lance asked, his face showed that he was still flustered from Steven's teasing.

Steven thought about it for a moment. He didn't really want to go back so quickly, not when he just stepped into the forest not too long ago. But on the other hand, if he stayed, he was at the risk of sending the wrong message to the King. That was the last thing he wanted to do. "Yes, we shall," Steven finally said.

Lance let out a sharp whistle, and then almost immediately, Leviar appeared on the sky above. She slowly descended onto the ground, before lowering her neck to let them on.

"Please tell her not to go through the trees again," Steven almost whimpered at the thought of being taken for that wild ride once more.

Lance smiled in amusement as he stroked Leviar's neck, "Of course."

Leviar flew above the canopies this time, and Steven watched as Ilex forest slowly became smaller beneath him. It was such an amazing sight to see, he never thought that the vast Ilex forest which had taken him weeks to travel through could look so small.

Steven was still looking down onto the ground as they flew away, and that was why he caught sight of quite a huge flame burning. "Lance, look! Down there!" Steven said as he pointed down at the flame.

"What is that?" Lance murmured, before he directed Leviar to fly closer to the ground.

Steven soon realized that there was a village down there, and a house was on fire. As they got closer, he could hear the sound of people screaming for help, and the sound of cruel laughter as well. Immediately, he realized what was going on, "Outlaws."

During his journey, Steven had faced a lot of troubles with many different groups of outlaws. They were troublesome people, living in hideouts hidden in the depths of forests and caves near the borders, surviving off the hard work of other men and women. They attacked villages, and sometimes towns, too far away to allow immediate reinforcement from the capital city of the Kingdom. Before the knights from the capital city could arrive, the would have already swiped all the village's supplies and valuables. Still, to attack a village close enough to be reached by wyverns in less than an hour, from Blackthorn no less, was pure idiocy. Either they were too dumb, or too confident in themselves. _The first one is more likely,_ Steven mused as Leviar landed safely on the ground not too far from the burning house.

"What are you doing?" Steven immediately asked the moment he realized that they had landed, and that Lance had jumped off Leviar, leaving him behind on the forest wyvern's back. "Lance, wait!" Quickly, Steven unmount the wyvern and ran to catch up with the King.

The flame roared as they walked pass the burning house. There was a lot of screaming coming from up ahead, and there were women crying as well. When they finally got close enough, Steven could see the back of the villagers, all gathered and made to kneel in front of the outlaws. Lance kept on walking, not even pausing to think about the best course of action.

"We should call the wyvern riders," Steven suggested as he trailed behind Lance. From the looks of it, there were probably thirty of them. Not too big of a group, but Steven wasn't sure if it was wise to confront them head on. The King, however, marched on, disregarding Steven's words. Steven hesitated between stopping him, or letting him go, but in the short time it took him to think, one of the outlaws spotted them already.

"Boss, look!" One of them shouted over the cries of the villagers as he pointed at them. "Lordlings!" They were armed with axes and swords, all of them rusty, but looked capable enough of causing a great deal of harm to someone as unarmed as Lance.

Lance kept on walking towards them, not even bothering to pause in his steps.

Another different outlaw laughed out loud, "They came too late! Boys, retreat! We've got enough loots to last for weeks!" And with another cruel bout of laughter, they quickly grabbed their loots and ran away.

Steven finally released the breath he had been holding. For a moment he was worried that Lance was going to confront them head on. It was a good thing those Outlaws decided to make a run for it instead. A confrontation with those kind of people can get dangerous really fast.

One of the villagers came up to Lance, and said, "Thank you for saving us, young man."

"Is anyone hurt?" Lance asked.

"No, thankfully no," the villager replied. "But our homes and food supplies..." his voice sadly trailed off as his eyes gazed around their ravaged homes.

"Do they come around often?" Lance continued to question.

"Not so often, my lord, once or twice every year, but... Not so often. They travel, my lord. From villages to villages. They only attacked villages the patrols never visited. One of our young man went to the capital to report this, but so far... nothing has been done to stop those savages."

"Yes, it's true," a woman cried out in agreement. "My cousin's village on the border of Viridian Kingdom, and my brother's village on the border of Evergrande Kingdom have also fallen victim to them! Please, my lord, you need to help us! Please inform the King about this!"

 _He is the King,_ Steven thought. _And I thought I was the only one who doesn't know. He needs to make more public appearance._

"I will get to the bottom of this," Lance told them, seemingly unbothered by the fact that they did not know that he was the King. Lance turned to look at Steven and said, "Lord Steven, I apologize for this trouble. I will ask Leviar to take you back right now."

"What about you?" Steven asked.

"I need to take care of this problem," Lance said.

"All by yourself?" Steven shook his head, "Impossible. You have to go back first and discuss this with your Generals."

"It's fine," Lance assured him. "I can handle them. Besides, the Generals plan more than they act. It will take quite some time before they are ready to move out. I prefer to be done with it as soon as possible."

"You can't face them all by yourself," Steven insisted.

"I can, trust me," Lance seriously said as he looked at Steven in the eyes, and Steven then remembered that Lance was the Kings of all Kings, the most powerful of them all, and there was no way he could not handle a handful of outlaws all by himself.

Steven felt dumb for worrying so much, but the worry was still there nonetheless. "I'm coming with you."

Lance was nonetheless surprised, "No, you're not."

"I am," Steven stubbornly insisted. "And we'd better get going if you want to catch up with them. Goddess knows we've wasted enough time here."

Lance sighed out as he shook his head, and then said, "Go back. And that's not a request. That's an order."

"I can fight."

Lance sighed again, "I deeply apologize, but you leave me with no choice." As soon as he said that, Lance turned his gaze to the sky and let out a long, shrill whistle.

Immediately, Leviar arrived, and before Steven knew what Lance was going to do, Lance slung him over his shoulder, before unceremoniously dumping him on Leviar's back. "Ouch!" Steven cried out, and before he could say anything else, Leviar took off to the skies. "Hey! Wait, Lance! By the Dragons!" Steven cursed as the village went out of sight. "You can't be serious."

* * *

No matter how hard he tried to command Leviar to go back to that village, the forest wyvern wouldn't listen to him. Instead, it kept on flying ahead, ignoring Steven's words as if he was but a mere fly. When Steven finally got tired of commanding, he began pleading, but that didn't work either, so Steven fell silent in the end. The rest of the flight was filled with worry and guilt. What if something happened to him? What if he got hurt? It was all his fault, if only he was better at persuading the King to go back first instead of blindly confronting those outlaws.

It seemed as if it took forever for Leviar to reach Blackthorn. As soon as she landed on the courtyard where they set off from that morning, Steven quickly dismounted the wyvern, though a bit clumsily, and went inside the palace. He needed to find someone, anyone, to report the incident to. Finding someone wasn't hard though, for as soon as he stepped inside the lonely hallway, a figure clad in dark appeared out of nowhere right in front of Steven, giving him quite a fright.

"Where's the King?" That woman asked.

"Outlaws," Steven quickly replied. "We were on our way back when we saw this village attacked by outlaws, the King, he-"

"Where?"

"Not far from Ilex Forest, on the border of Blackthorn."

"Come with me," she prompted. "I will inform General Haar, and you will lead him there."

Steven nodded in agreement.

X

General Haar was a man with tall, sturdy stature, unkempt swept-back black hair, and a black eye-patch which covered his left eye. He donned a set of unpolished black armor that looked quite heavy, and a red cape hung from around his neck. His looked intimidating from afar, but once Steven got close enough, his sleepy eyes and bored expression said otherwise. When the mysterious woman clad in black and Steven found him in the training yard, he was talking to his subordinate.

"General Haar, I brought bad news, it's about the King," the woman clad in black said.

General Haar turned to look at them, his good red eye studied them both for a moment, before he turned to his subordinate and said, "Go, I have Kingly matters to attend to." The subordinate immediately complied, and the tree of them were left alone. Haar faced them both, his eyes studying the woman for a moment before he asked, "You're Koga's daughter?"

"Yes sir, Janine is my name."

'Where is the old coot? Haven't seen him in a few days."

"He's out on a mission, sir. He won't be back until the end of this week."

"That guy still owes me a drink..." Haar muttered before he let out a loud yawn. "It's almost time for my nap, let's just get on with this. What's going on with our royal Highness?"

"He encountered a band of outlaws when he was riding out with Lord Steven, and has gone to pursue them by himself."

"Oh?" General Haar sounded mildly surprised, before he let out a tired sigh. "Is that it?"

"General Haar, this is a situation of critical consequence, if anything happens to the King-"

"Nothing will happen to him, he's a grown man, he can take care of himself," Haar sighed again. "Just go to Jasmine, tell her to bring a lot of wyverns for the prisoners. I'm going for my nap." He let a yawn again before he made to walk away.

"You're going for a nap when your King is in danger? What kind of General are you?" Those words escaped Steven's lips before he even realized what he was doing. When he did realize what he was doing, he didn't feel anything else but annoyance. He wouldn't say he was angry, he knew that Haar was right when he said that Lance was able to take care of himself, but he was still a bit irritated by Haar's nonchalant attitude.

The General stopped and turned to look at Steven. He silently studied Steven for a moment, his eyes sleepy and bored, before he said, "First off, the King is not in danger, and never will be. Second, I am Haar, the Dragonmaster, and the General in charge of the King's entire wyvern army. Have I answered all your questions?"

Steven had to admit that he was slightly intimidated by his monotonous voice and red eye, but he refused to back down. "Aren't you going to do something to help the King?"

"Yes, I've told you to get Commander Jasmine, didn't I? Anything else you might want to ask?"

Steven couldn't believe how difficult the man was. "You're... impossible," Steven shook his head, "Goddess, are all the Generals here this unreliable? Your King is out there helping his people and might possibly be in danger and all you care about is your nap?" Steven raised his voice. "Do you realize how ridiculous you sound?"

Haar stared at Steven with his dull, red eye, and he kept on staring for a long time until Steven began having doubts on what he was doing. Finally he sighed and said, "Yeah, you're right. Let's go."

"Wait, what?" Steven was nonetheless surprised. He had thought that Haar was going to kill him or something.

"I said you're right, and that we should go. Don't want to keep him waiting, right?" Haar then let out a yawn as he headed to the wyverns resting on the side of the training field. "Janine, go get Jasmine. This annoying lord is coming with me."

"At once!" Janine said before she disappeared right in front of their very eyes.

Steven looked at Haar and said, "What...? I mean... why?"

"Less talking, more walking. I want to get back in time for my evening nap." Haar said.

Steven was still left speechless.

* * *

Haar's wyvern was a big, black fire wyvern twice the size of Darkstar, which Haar referred to as 'the overgrown lizard'. It was no doubt a magnificent wyvern, Steven could feel its muscles rippling as they flew to the village with Commander Jasmine, a few other riders, and a handful of riderless wyverns. Steven wanted to know how Haar managed to get those wyverns flew obediently alongside with them even though they were riderless, but he had a feeling that Haar didn't like him that much.

Soon they came upon the village, and Steven noticed that the fire had been put out.

"In which direction did those outlaws run to?" Haar asked.

"To the East, towards the border of Viridian Kingdom."

"Ah, so they are the kind who danced near the borders, eh? They're the most troublesome bunch." Haar muttered, before letting out a yawn. "Holy Rhea, I thought he was over the age where he runs off making trouble all the time."

It was safe to say that Haar was talking about the King. If that was the case, then Steven had a feeling that Haar and the King was somewhat close, maybe even related, considering the way Haar handled those wyverns with so much ease. "The King used to get in trouble all the time?" Steven couldn't help but ask, for it was hard to imagine Lance getting into trouble, he didn't look like the type.

"Hey, there was a time when he wasn't a King, you know," Haar shrugged. "Dragged me and a friend across the land, hunting outlaws, keeping peace, and whatnot. Always a magnet for trouble. I thought he had finally decided to settle down after getting crowned. Heh, must have missed the good old days."

Steven tried to imagine this younger, less burdened version of Lance, but somehow the image was kind of hard to wrap his head around. "He does not look like that kind of person."

"Oh, you didn't know him as well as some of us do," Haar simply replied. "Oh, down there."

Steven peered down and saw several fire wyverns cornering the group of outlaws who had previously attacked the village. He was nonetheless relieved to see Lance standing not far from there, looking as if he was unharmed. They all landed not far from the King, and as soon as they dismounted, the King looked at them, and immediately his eyes went wide.

"Haar?" Lance asked, sounding surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I can't go around disobeying our future Lord Consort, can't I?" Haar replied, making both Lance and Steven inwardly cringed. "Jasmine, seize them all at once." he ordered the Commander, before he turned his attention back to Lance, "Gotta make a good impression, otherwise future Lord Consort might decide to make my life difficult later on."

"That's... Unlikely," Steven murmured.

"You don't really have to worry about that," Lance hesitated.

Haar alternated his gaze between the two of them, before a look of realization went across his face, "Oh... I see. This young Lord doesn't fancy married men with two children, eh?"

"That's not-" Steven was about to correct him, but Haar cut him off.

"Yeah, don't feel bad about it. I wouldn't want him either. Children are such a pain in the ass. And married men are boring," Haar said before yawning again. "Heh, I guess I came here for nothing after all. I'm going back first, don't bother me with unimportant stuff like this again, okay?" Without another word, he mounted his wyvern and immediately took off.

As soon as he left, Lance directed his words to Steven, "I must say, I am surprised. Haar does not usually takes an order from anyone but me."

"He does not?" Steven was unsure of what to say.

"No, he's loyal to a fault. He does not deem an order valid until he hears and sees it coming out from my mouth. So it surprised me greatly to see him here."

"Well, I think it was because he assume that I am the future Lord Consort." Steven jokingly said, though it felt rather awkward saying it considering that Steven just turned Lance down earlier that day.

"No, he never..." Lance's voice trailed off as he looked away. "Ah... I think it's time to return to the palace."

Steven wondered why the King didn't finish his sentence, but when he was about to ask, the King had turned his attention to Jasmine and the captured outlaws. The wyvern riders from the palace had tied them all and were slinging them over the wyverns' backs. Lance went to talk with Jasmine.

Steven stood from a distance and watched the King. He couldn't help but to think of all the events that had happened between them so far. It had been a short time, but Steven had learnt more about the King than he was willing to admit. It felt funny to know someone with such an esteemed social status so well, but the more Steven knew, the more he wanted to know. _Ah, but... that's not good, isn't it?_

The King walked up to him as soon as he finished talking to Commander Jasmine. "I apologize for making you wait. Shall we head back now?"

 _Doesn't matter, I suppose. After all, I turned him down. Once we return and part ways, I'll probably never see him again._

Steven smiled at the King and said, "Yes, we shall."

* * *

 **Lance**

They returned to the palace in the mid afternoon. He helped Steven unmount Leviar, before sending the forest wyvern away. They stood and watched as Leviar disappeared, before Steven turned to look at him and said, "You know... This might be strange for me to say, but I really think you should know this."

Lance looked at him and asked, "What is it?"

"You're a good father, and a good King, and I'm sure you'll make a good husband as well. You're... a really good person, and I wish you all the best."

Somehow, those words felt like a parting gift, and Lance wasn't sure if he was supposed to be happy or sad. He was glad to hear the compliment, but he was also saddened by the reminder that they might not see each other again. "Thank you," he replied. "And you're... a very interesting person as well."

Steven chuckled, "Hardly, but thank you."

 _So, is this it?_ Lance wondered. "Shall I escort you back to your room?"

Steven shook his head, "No, I... I don't think that's necessary. I'm sure you have other matters to attend to."

"It's fine. I can not let a young lord such as yourself wander around without an escort."

Steven knew better than to argue, "I suppose you're right."

The walk was filled with an awkward silence which reminded Lance of the first time he escorted Steven back to the West Wing. He knew he needed to say something, but the words he wanted to say just sounded wrong in his head. _Will you come with me for another ride next time? Can we stay as friends? Are you sure you're not interested in me?_

He felt like a little boy all over again, so full of doubts and hesitation. He couldn't help but wonder why he wanted to be with Steven so much. What is it that you see in him? He asked himself. He glanced at Steven, and thought, _he is handsome, and good looking._ But was that all? Was his attraction purely based on his fondness of Steven's features? Nothing but mere lust and want? If that was the case, then maybe Steven did the right by turning him down.

"You're a good father, and a good King, and I'm sure you'll make a good husband as well. You're... a really good person, and I wish you all the best."

Lance suddenly stopped. No, that wasn't the case. This attraction... It was more than just lust and want.

 _"It's one of my charms."_

 _"It doesn't bother me..."_

 _"I kept thinking about you the whole day."_

Steven noticed that Lance had stopped walking, and did the same. He looked over his shoulder and asked, "What's wrong?"

Steven's winning traits were more than just his outer appearance. He was honest, unabashed, and simple. He was modest, he didn't try to hide his true self beneath layers of false courtesy like all the others Lance had met. He was simply who he was. No deep, dark secret, no hidden intentions, no ulterior motives. And that was probably why Lance felt so comfortable around him. "... I know that you've turned me down..." Lance let the words came out of his mouth. "And that you're not interested in me. But I believe that you should know... that I like you."

Immediately, Steven's eyes widened with surprise. His mouth parted slightly in disbelief, and Lance got the urge to kiss him right there and then.

And so he did.

Steven was rendered speechless for the second time that day.


End file.
